


Snapshots

by LexaRexa



Series: Fading Bright Eyes Dark [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fading Bright Eyes Dark, Fluff, G!P, G!p Lexa, Smut, but not too much, cinnamon roll lexa, horny klutzy clarke (TM), intersex lexa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-06 03:31:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 30,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11592036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LexaRexa/pseuds/LexaRexa
Summary: This is a collection of snapshots from the lives of Clarke and Lexa set in the FBED!verse. (I suggest reading Fading Bright Eyes Dark first.) Little glimpses into the good times, bad times, sexy times, and more. Most will be Clexa-centric, but some may concentrate on one character at a time. Ranya is a thing, but will not be highlighted in this collection. (That collection will come later.)





	1. Abby Always Knows

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, hey! I'm back! Just like I promised. This is just the first of many one- and two-shots of these ridiculous fools in love. 
> 
> A few quick things: Each chapter will be a separate one-shot (or a two-shot will take place over two chapters and be labeled as Part I, Part II, etc.). At the beginning of each chapter, I will provide a brief summary and include the appropriate tags for that instillation, rather than add the tags to the actual fic (the tags would get CRAZY long and I'm not about that life). This way you will also know to avoid certain chapters if it's not quite your cup of tea (like, I have certain kink-related one-shots planned, but you may not be into a specific kink, so I'll be sure to mention it in the chapter summary, etc.). Lastly, enjoy! :)
> 
>  
> 
> Chapter Summary: Clarke and Lexa are *supposed* to have the house to themselves, but what happens when Abby unexpectedly returns home early one night?
> 
> Chapter Tags: mild smut, post-coitus interuptus, secondhand embarrassment, high school, senior year

_ April, 2018 - High School, Senior Year _

Clarke’s phone lit up where it sat in her bag, going unnoticed by the pair on the couch. She’d forgotten to take it off silent after the movie they’d gone to see. Neither of them noticed the incoming messages.

It was Friday night and they were celebrating Lexa’s first place finish at a regional cross country meet that Wednesday. Abby was out with Marcus and wasn’t supposed to be home for another two hours as he’d taken her into the city to see a Celine Dion concert at Caesars Palace. They should have had plenty of time.

As soon as they’d walked in the door, Clarke had pushed Lexa onto the couch and straddled her lap as she thrust her tongue into her hungry mouth. Lexa had teased her all throughout the movie, running her hand along her inner thigh. It had started off innocent enough with her hand on her knee left bare by her t-shirt-style dress. Then she’d started the teasing in the darkened back corner of the theater. When her fingers had brushed the lacy material of Clarke’s panties, the blonde had grabbed her wrist and leaned in to whisper into Lexa’s ear. “Don’t start something you don’t plan to finish,” she warned.

And dammit of course Lexa wasn’t about to fuck her in a theater with so many people in it. It wasn’t crowded, but there were enough that made the danger of being caught outweigh the thrill of the act.

So she'd stopped and Clarke had pounced as soon as they returned to the house. Now, she was clawing at Lexa’s jeans, rushing to undo the stubborn button and zipper before tugging them and her compression shorts down enough to free her erection.

Lexa gasped and threw her head back against the couch when Clarke slid to her knees on the floor and took her into her mouth, her lips immediately closing around the head of her dick. “Fuck,” Lexa gasped. She tried to keep her hips still, but they had a mind of their own and began to move back and forth. Clarke relaxed her throat as much as she could and let Lexa fuck her mouth, the head of her dick repeatedly hitting the back of her throat. She reached out and caressed Lexa’s balls, squeezing gently but firmly in a way she’d come to know would make her moan as she came in her mouth.

“Clarke, wait,” Lexa said, pushing back on her shoulders when she felt herself close to cumming. “I need to fuck you.”

Clarke nodded and stood. She reached under her dress and slid off her panties before hiking the skirt of her dress around her hips and straddling Lexa once again. Lexa held herself upright as Clarke settled on top of her, aligning her entrance to her dick before swiftly sinking down on her.

They let out matching groans of pleasure.

“I never get tired of this,” Lexa said as she gripped Clarke's hips in her hands, beneath her dress, so hard that Clarke briefly wondered if/hoped she would leave bruises. “Feeling you around me, squeezing me. You’re so fucking tight around me. I could cum just thinking about it.”

Clarke let out a whimper at Lexa’s words and reclaimed her lips as she began moving her hips.

They were supposed to have the house to themselves, you see. They didn’t count on a flat tire on Marcus’ sedan, nor did they count on missing Abby’s text that she would be back early. They definitely did not count on hearing the garage door open just as they were both crying out the other’s name, Clarke squeezing her tightly with her inner muscles as Lexa spilled inside her.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, Clarke thought as she panicked and came at the same time, unable to stop her body's natural response. That was a new and weird sensation.

“Shit,” Lexa gasped, panic also apparent in her eye even through the haze of arousal.  

Clarke quickly shifted up, dislodging herself from Lexa, who hissed, but rushed to push herself back into her compression shorts. Except she was still hard, her orgasm having been cut short, and she couldn’t quite manage. So Clarke grabbed the throw blanket from the end of the couch and set it on Lexa’s lap before tugging her own dress down snuggling into Lexa’s side. Lexa shifted so that the blanket hid the bulge of her dick, throwing her arm around Clarke's shoulders in what she hoped was a casual pose.

The garage door opened and Abby walked in, Marcus in tow. They both carried several paper bags from the local market.

“Hi, Mom,” Clarke said, attempting to school her features into an innocent look. “Hi, Marcus.” The teacher had told them to call him Marcus outside of school. It had taken some getting used to, but it felt natural now.

“Good evening, ladies,” Marcus said as they set the bags on the kitchen island, the open-concept of the first floor allowing for the sightlines.

Clarke would have normally gotten up to help them with the bags, but she couldn’t in her current state, fearful that shifting would cause the blanket covering Lexa’s lap to fall. “Why are you back so soon?”

Abby gave them a curious, narrow-eyed look as she turned and studied them, carefully taking in their position on the couch. Then her eyes widened slightly as if she noticed something, and Clarke knew they were busted. She kept her face as innocent as possible, however, and silently begged her mom to not say anything in front of Marcus.

“If you’d have looked at your phone, you would have seen the several messages I sent telling you that we got a flat tire and missed the first half of the show, so we decided to stop by the store and get the ingredients to cook a nice meal, instead.”

“Oh,” Clarke said, glancing at her bag that she’d tossed haphazardly onto the chair. “Um, must still be on silent from the movie.”

“Lexa, are you okay?” Marcus asked, noting the girl’s nearly pained expression.

Lexa had been silent during the entire conversation, mostly because she was concentrating on her breathing in attempt to get her erection to subside. She’d already cum, so why the hell wouldn’t it go away? It wasn’t uncommon for her to stay hard inside of Clarke for several minutes post-orgasm, but she didn’t normally pull out so quickly afterwards.

Lexa nodded. “Uh, yeah, just a muscle cramp from Wednesday’s meet,” she lied, hoping it sounded legitimate.

Marcus seemed to buy it and turned back to unpack the groceries.

Abby had had enough, however. But she wasn’t about to embarrass them in front of their teacher. “Marcus, honey, I think I left my phone in the car,” she said with a sickeningly sweet smile.

Abby had Marcus wrapped so tightly around her finger that he didn’t even hesitate to head back out to find her phone (which was in her back pocket). Once the garage door closed, Abby’s smile dropped and she rounded on the pair on the couch, expression angered, but she didn’t yell. “I am going to use the restroom and when I get back, you two will be upstairs and behind a locked door,” she said, making it apparent that she knew  _ exactly _  what had been happening before she opened the door.

“Yes, ma’am,” Clarke said sheepishly.

Abby made it to the door of the powder room off the main living space before she turned around and pointed to the ground in front of the couch. “And make sure you take those with you,” she said. Then she was gone.

Clarke looked at where she’d pointed and cursed. Her lacy navy blue boy shorts were clearly visible. She snatched them up and felt how damp the crotch was against her palm. Thank god they’d been a dark color or the wet spot may have been visible from space.

“I can never show my face here again,” Lexa groaned out.

“You said that when my mom found our condoms and yet here you are,” Clarke said. She was mortified, but at least it seemed like Marcus had no idea what was going on. “Come on, before my mom comes back.”

Needing no more further encouragement than the threat of having to face Abby again, Lexa took Clarke’s hand and, with the blanket still clutched to her chest to hide her still undone jeans, she followed Clarke up the stairs and into her room.

The following morning, Lexa insisted on leaving before Abby awoke, so she set her phone alarm for six in the morning and tried to sneak out of the house after kissing Clarke goodbye and promising to text her once it was a more reasonable hour.

But Abby was an early riser and surprised Lexa by entering the kitchen as she was pulling on her Vans in the mudroom just off the kitchen. “Good morning, Lexa.”

Lexa jumped and let out a startled sound at the greeting. She straightened up and turned to see Abby at the kitchen island, an amused expression on her face as she sipped her morning coffee. “Hi,” Lexa squeaked out. “I, uh, have conditioning training for cross country,” she said. It wasn't a lie--she did have training. What she didn't say was that training didn't start until eight so she didn't need to leave for another hour and a half.

Abby quirked an eyebrow. “Are you going to avoid me for the next few days?”

Lexa felt her cheeks burn. “Weeks, probably,” she said, refusing to meet Abby's eye.

Abby decided to let the poor girl off the hook. “Have a good practice,” she said casually.

“Thanks,” Lexa said and turned to leave.

Before she could, Abby felt the need to reassure the girl a bit more. “My mother walked in on Jake and me once,” she said.

Lexa stopped and turned, wondering if she'd heard correctly. Abby looked lost in her memory.

“We were about the same age as you two, and, well, let's just say she got much more of an eye-full,” she said.

Lexa stood there, unsure of what to say.

Abby sighed and straightened at the island, coffee forgotten for the moment. “My point is that you don't need to be embarrassed. I know you and Clarke are having sex. I've come to terms with it. And sex is a natural part of being in love. It could have been a lot worse, and I'm pretty sure you learned a lesson about appropriate places to be intimate.”

Lexa nodded slowly, eyes wide. There was no way she'd ever have sex with Clarke anywhere in this house that wasn't in Clarke's bedroom.

“Then there's nothing to be ashamed about,” Abby said. “Got it?”

Lexa nodded again, this time firmer. “Yes,” she said. “But I'm still gonna avoid you for a few days.”

Abby smiled. “Fair enough,” she said. “Just not for too long. I enjoy our conversations.”

Lexa left then, and Abby shook her head in amusement. Her anger the previous night had only been born of fear of embarrassment for her daughter and Lexa, as well as annoyance at their choice of location. But after having had the night to cool off, she'd seen the humor in the situation. She was just glad that Marcus had been none the wiser. He still was unaware of Lexa being intersex, a request from the girl herself to keep quiet for now. Abby understood and hadn't told him.

Abby was just glad that they hadn't walked in a few minutes earlier. He definitely would have become privy to the information then.

She was just cooking up breakfast when Clarke finally joined her in the kitchen, muttering about being too early for a Saturday but the smell of bacon had lured her downstairs.

Abby wasn't about to tease Lexa about what had transpired the night before, but Clarke was a different story. She put on her best annoyed face and turned to face her daughter. “Care to explain yourself?” she asked in her best ‘Mom’ voice.

Clarke paused in her pouring of orange juice and looked up, a scared expression on her face. “I… we… you weren't supposed to be--and we--I mean… what?"

Abby arched an eyebrow. “You are damn lucky, you know.”

“I know,” Clarke said, looking down. She flushed bright red when she thought about how they could have actually been in the act when her mom and Marcus walked in. Yikes.

Abby decided that was enough. “Lucky to have such a kind girlfriend.”

That wasn't what Clarke was expecting. She looked up and saw the angry expression gone from her mother's face, one of amusement in its place. She'd been played!

“Oh, very funny, Mom,” Clarke said, finally about to breathe again. “I thought you were going to ground me or something.”

Abby laughed. “No, no,” she said. “Just give you a stern look--” she gave her the look-- “and ask that you don't defile my furniture like that again.”

Clarke quickly nodded. “I'm sorry.”

Abby relaxed her face. “Good.” She slid the pancakes and bacon onto two plates. “Seriously, Clarke. What were you thinking?”

Clarke looked sheepish and gave a weak smile. “I wasn't,” she said truthfully.

Abby rolled her eyes and sighed. “Just keep it in your room, please?”

Clarke nodded. “We will.”

“And wash that blanket today."


	2. Of Apartments and Neighbors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Lexa move in together after they graduate high school. Their neighbor is... interesting. But they have no idea just how much she will change their lives. 
> 
> Chapter rating: T
> 
> Chapter tags: domestic fluff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SHOCKED at the response to the first chapter! I love y'all so much and I cannot wait to continue telling Clarke and Lexa's story. 
> 
> In this chapter, I'm introducing an original character based upon my own grandmother who recently passed away. Her name was also Marie and she was my biggest supporter and encourager. I hope you come to love Marie as much as I do. :)

Clarke huffed and slumped against the wall of the elevator, hair sticking to her forehead from the sweltering heat. Of course they'd pick the hottest weekend of the summer so far to move into their new place.

Her first place with Lexa.

They'd decided to forego student housing at UCLA, and thanks to a generous offer from Abby to pay for an apartment just a fifteen minute walk from the main campus, they were about to officially live together. At first, Lexa had protested Abby footing the bill, saying that it was way too much. But Abby had countered that she'd be paying for it anyway for Clarke since it was a one-bedroom. It was only after Abby agreed that Lexa could pay all the utilities that she agreed to the deal. Abby didn't mention that the rent already covered the water and gas utilities.

As the elevator doors opened on the fifth floor, Clarke wiped her sweaty brow and trudged down the hall while juggling the large box full of clothing. Why the hell were freaking clothes so heavy anyway?

Apartment 511 was at the end of the hall. As a corner unit, they only had neighbors on one side. She hoped they weren't annoying.

“That's the last of it,” she said as she closed the door behind her, dropping the box on the ground before collapsing onto the hardwood floor. Ouch. They needed to get an area rug.

“Except for the furniture,” Lexa said as she walked over to where Clarke was casually dying of exhaustion. She handed her a bottle of water.

“Bless you,” Clarke said, eagerly accepting the water and sitting up before downing half of the bottle in one go. “And the furniture doesn't count. The delivery guys will bring that up.”

Lexa's parents’ contribution to the apartment and their graduation gift had been a trip to the local furniture clearance center where they'd purchased them the basics to furnish the small apartment. It may be small, just over 850 square feet, but it was quite nice. With Iris and Gustus’ input, they had managed to find a bedroom set complete with a queen sized bed, two nightstands, dresser with a vanity mirror, and a tall chest of drawers as well as a dining set, couch, arm chair, a couple of bookshelves and end tables, and two stools for the kitchen island. All for a decent price that came in well under budget. Lexa's parents had given them the remaining money to use for decor or other necessities like kitchenware or linens, as well as Lexa's living stipend so she didn't have to work while attending school. (Not that she'd have time to work if she wanted to with her soccer training. Yikes.) The money had originally been Lexa's college fund, but having scored the full scholarship, she didn't need for tuition.

Unfortunately, the delivery wasn't scheduled until the next morning, so they'd be roughing it on an air mattress for the night.

“I am in desperate need of a shower and food, in that order,” Clarke said.

Lexa nodded in agreement, wiping the sweat off her own brow. Then she grinned. “Want to conserve water?”

Clarke returned her grin and held out a hand for Lexa to help her up. “Always.”

The bathroom was Clarke's favorite part of the entire apartment. It was massive for the small size of the place, causing the bedroom to be a bit cramped, but it was so worth it for that bathroom. There was a large tub and a separate glass shower. And two sinks. That alone would likely save their relationship from some pretty major stress-driven bickering.

After their shower that definitely did not conserve water, they opted to order takeout since they didn't have any food. Or, you know, anything to cook food in.

“Hey Clarke,” Lexa said as they ate pizza directly out of the box while sitting on the floor of their living room, backs against the wall.

“Hmm?” Clarke said around a bite of pizza from what was likely her new favorite pizza place because oh my god the cheese on this thing!

“We live together.”

Clarke paused in her chewing momentarily, then swallowed. She smiled broadly. “We live together.” Then she cast a curious glance towards the wall where on the other side lived their new neighbors. “I hope the neighbors are cool.”

Their neighbor were most definitely… interesting. They discovered this the following day after the furniture has been delivered. Lexa met her first and the woman seemed fine in the beginning, but things got… weird. She stuck her head out of her apartment as Lexa was thanking the delivery guys for their time and effort before tipping them generously. When she noticed the woman, she gave her a warm smile. “Hi, I hope we weren't making too much noise,” she said by way of greeting. “Furniture delivery.”

The woman, who appeared to be in her sixties, opened her door fully and stepped out. “No worries, dear. You're the new tenant?” She spoke with a thick southern accent.

Lexa nodded. “One of them, yes,” she replied. “I'm Lexa Woods.”

“Marie Duke,” the woman replied. They shook hands. “You said one of them. Are you already married at such a young age? You can't be more than twenty.”

Lexa laughed. “Oh, not yet, ma'am. We're just starting college. We're both going to be freshmen at UCLA this fall.”

The woman looked surprised. “Living together already?”

Lexa knit her brow in confusion, starting to get a bad feeling. “Yes,” she said. “We've been together a long time.” She somehow didn't think Marie would agree that a year and a half was a ‘long time’ but she didn't feel the need to explain herself.

Marie plastered on a fake smile and pushed her shoulders back. “Forgive me,” she said. “You and your boyfriend will have to come over once you're settled for some tea so I can get to know you both. I like to know my neighbors.”

Before Lexa could correct her, a ringing came from inside Marie’s apartment.

“Oh, that's probably my daughter,” she said. “Excuse me, dear.” Then she was gone.

Lexa sighed, wondering if this woman was going to cause them trouble. She hadn't expected trouble like that in LA.

It was when Clarke met Marie two days later that things got even weirder. Clarke was struggling to unlock the apartment door while balancing their dinner in her hands. Lexa was about to start training and would have to really watch her diet, she'd convinced Clarke to get Chinese, wings, and In-N-Out, along with a six pack of Dr. Pepper. She was seconds away from dropping it all when the door opened and Lexa saved the food.

“You owe me,” Clarke breathed out as Lexa took the soda and the bag of Chinese food and headed towards the small kitchen island to set down. Clarke followed.

Lexa just grinned at her and gave her a look that said she knew exactly what Clarke was implying and was about to make a smartass comment when there was a noise at the still-open door. Lexa immediately recognized the woman from next door. “Oh, hi Marie.”

Clarke turned towards the door, feeling her defenses already rising. Lexa had told her about her encounter with their neighbor, so she was on edge.

“Hello, dear,” Marie greeted. “I was hoping that was your beau that I heard, but I see you have a friend over instead. I'll try again later.” She started to leave.

“Wait,” Lexa said, ready to just get the inevitable over with. “This is my… beau?” Who said beau anymore? “Well, not beau, obviously. My girlfriend.” She grabbed Clarke's hand and held her breath.

Clarke gave a small wave. “Clarke Griffin,” she supplied and held out her hand to shake, figuring she'd at least give the woman a chance.

But Marie just stared, a shocked expression on her face. Clarke dropped her hand after a moment and sighed. Lexa let go of her hand and wrapped her arm around her waist instead, pulling her close.

That seemed to snap the woman out of her shocked state and she blinked rapidly. “Oh,” she said. “Girlfriend, then.”

Clarke stiffened. “That's right,” she said. “Is there a problem with that?”

Marie's eyes widened. “Oh! No. I'm sorry. You must think I'm some sort of homophobic ass.”

Now it was their turn to stare in disbelief. “You… aren't?” Clarke asked.

Marie let out a laugh. “Honey, if I were a homophobic ass, I'd be quite the hypocrite.”

Understanding dawned on Lexa first. “You're gay?”

Marie smiled. “Yes, dear. Was with my late wife Rhonda for forty-one years, may she rest in peace.”

“But the other day,” Lexa said. “You were shocked that we're already living together. I thought you were some religious zealot who thought living in sin was some unforgivable act.”

“And figured I'd also be a raging anti-gay activist?”

Lexa looked sheepish. “Kinda.”

Marie smiled and waved her hand in the air. “My concern was about you two living together so young and had nothing to do with any antiquated beliefs about ‘living in sin’ as you put it or same sex relationships. It just made me think about my granddaughter who is also about to start college and is moving in with her high school boyfriend. My daughter is terrified it'll end badly and I have to agree. They're too young to be living together. Both very immature, you see.”

Clarke raised an eyebrow at that. They were the same age as this woman's granddaughter after all. “I don't know your granddaughter, obviously, but I can tell you that age isn't an issue. Not for us, at least. Lexa and I have known for quite a while that we're meant for one another. She's the woman I'm going to marry one day and we're going to have two kids--”

“Five,” Lexa interjected with a teasing grin.

Clarke ignored her. “I know it sounds contrite. Who really meets the love of their life in high school, right? But my parents met in high school and if my dad were still alive, they'd have been married for over twenty years. I can't speak for your granddaughter, but I can speak for myself when I say that I know Lexa is it for me, so why shouldn’t we live together and start saving our money? Be fiscally responsible and all that.” She didn’t need to know that Clarke’s mother was the one footing the bill for the apartment.

Marie cocked her head to the side and studied them carefully before giving a single nod. “Okay. I can see the difference between you two and my granddaughter, bless her heart. I apologize for my quick judgement.” She turned to Lexa. “And also for assuming your beau was a he,” she added. “How heteronormative of me.”

Clarke and Lexa were shocked by that to say the least. “Um, no worries,” Lexa said.

“I’m just glad we’re not living next to some raging anti-gay asshole,” Clarke said.

Marie gave a sympathetic nod. “Oh, I know. I was out in a world filled with hate when I was your age. The world is still filled with hate, unfortunately, but things are slowly getting better. At least I was able to officially marry my Rhonda before she died.”

So that was how they befriended a sixty-three-year-old woman in their first apartment. Marie became a pseudo-grandmother to them both, always bringing them baked goods and things she knitted or sewed. She presented them with a giant quilt that she made from UCLA t-shirts for Christmas. It spent the next several years as their bedspread.

When Lexa’s own grandmother passed away during the spring of their freshman year, Marie held her close and let her sob into her shoulder as they waited for Clarke to rush home from campus. Then they both held her while Clarke arranged two plane tickets for that evening to Seattle where her grandmother had lived.

When Clarke was chosen to be showcased in a school art show, an unheard of honor for a mere sophomore art minor, Marie was eager to attend. She was Clarke’s biggest supporter other than Lexa. She’d even posed for her several times. (Not nude, though she’d offered, not ashamed of her aged body in the slightest.)

When Lexa had a season-ending injury junior year, Marie was there to wait hand and foot on her when Clarke was forced to attend class or risk her near-perfect GPA for missing too many to stay with Lexa.

She was an unbiased and supportive friend to both when Clarke and Lexa broke up that one time for five unbearable months. But she was also the one who ultimately got them back together by telling them both to get over themselves and fight for love.

Marie found out about Lexa being intersex during their sophomore year when, during a heated game of Never Have I Ever, Clarke, more than slightly inebriated, yelled out, “Never have I ever gotten my dick sucked while driving!”

“Clarke!” cried Lexa, also drunk off her ass, so she drank.

Marie, equally wasted, howled with laughter. “Lexa’s got a pecker! I gotta remember that in the morning!”

She did. “What was that about you and a dick?”

Lexa explained that she was intersex and all Marie said was, “I was referring to the blowjob while driving. That is so dangerous. You two need to be more careful!”

Even after they moved into a different apartment complex after graduation, they kept in touch with Marie until she passed away at the ripe old age of ninety-five. They attended her funeral with their kids--all four of them--by their sides. Marie had become a part of their family, so much so that the kids all called her ‘Mamaw.’

The day they returned home from the funeral, Clarke and Lexa grabbed a dusty storage bin from the basement and lugged it up the stairs. Inside lay a giant, well-worn quilt made with love from old UCLA shirts. The quilt returned to its rightful place on their bed, keeping them warm and close to the woman who’d become such an integral part of their lives.

__**Marie Vilma Duke  
1955 - 2050  
May we meet again. **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *note: while Marie is based off my own grandmother, my Mamaw was not gay. That I know of. 
> 
>  
> 
> Fun fact of the day: I have a quilt that my Mamaw made for me using old t-shirts from my alma matter, LSU. Geaux Tigers!


	3. Breaking Up is Hard to Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When things get tough for Clarke and Lexa, they implode. Is it for good?
> 
>  
> 
> _**Chapter Rating**_ : Explicit
> 
>  
> 
> _**Chapter Tags**_ : CLEXA ENDGAME, NO CHEATING, NO ONE SLEEPS WITH ANYONE ELSE, but they do break up for five months because they're idiots, lovable idiots, but still idiots, break up sex, lots and lots of break up sex, angst, sorry not sorry, (I actually really am sorry haha)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This... took a while. It's over 13,000 words. It should be broken down into 3-4 parts, but I promised to have a resolution by the end of the chapter, so I'm posting it all as one. 
> 
> So, here we go. I'm incredibly nervous about this because angst isn't really my thing. I like to write smut and fluff. So, what do I do? Write 40 pages of angst with a side of smut, of course! Makes complete sense.

**November, 2022**

 

Clarke was reeling. Panicking. On the verge of breaking down. Again.

 

And Lexa wasn't there to calm her down. She hadn't been there for a week. Hadn't called. Hadn't texted. Hadn’t reached out in any way.

 

But neither had Clarke. That's what happened when you break up with someone.

 

A week. Seven days. One hundred sixty-eight hours.

 

No Lexa.

 

It was nearly Thanksgiving and they were supposed to travel home together. Both of their families were going to spend the holiday together, just like they had since they'd started dating nearly six years prior.

 

Clarke hadn't even told her mother that they'd broken up. If she ignored it, it wasn't real.

 

Right?

 

She'd wanted to seek out comfort in Marie, but Lexa was there. Lexa was there and she had no one. (She ignored the fact that Raven lived only half an hour away because she lived with Anya, who would definitely take Lexa's side. She didn't want to make Raven choose between her best friend and the woman who'd become like a sister to her.)

 

But Marie showed up at Clarke's door the morning after Lexa left and told her in no uncertain terms that she did not support this breakup and knew they'd get back together. Clarke didn't believe her, but she was relieved that Marie hadn't sided with Lexa over her.

 

Neither of them were at fault. Or, rather, they were both at fault. Clarke was drowning in her first semester of medical school. While her pre-med courses had been difficult, she’d managed to get through them fairly easily. But medical school was no joke, and the jump from standard effort for an A grade to the triple amount of effort to pull off a mere B- was a shock to Clarke. She wasn’t used to not immediately being the best in her class. And that derailed her confidence.

 

Meanwhile, Lexa was drowning in her police academy training. The days were unbelievably long, packed full with both physical fitness and academic courses in police tactical procedures, forensic work, and penal code (among other topics). Then there was the firearms training. Having never touched a gun in her life, Lexa had been nervous about handling one. And for good reason. Basically, her aim sucked. She could pass the physical and academic parts of the training with flying colors--usually top of the class. But when it came to the shooting range, she was behind her classmates, and that pissed her off. So she stayed after everyone else for extra practice. And it was helping. She was getting more confident with the heavy feel of metal and plastic in her hand.

 

But at what price?

 

They didn’t see one another much, but when they did, they fought. A lot. More than they'd ever fought before. They fought about the smallest things--Lexa left the toilet seat up, Clarke didn't put her coffee mug in the dishwasher, Lexa forgot to fold the laundry, Clarke forgot to take the trash out. Inconsequential things that had never caused them to fight before. Not the yelling matches that had ultimately led them to call it quits after a particularly bad fight about money. They'd definitely never fought about money before.

 

They'd never really _fought_ before. Not more than momentary tiffs that were easily resolved by a smile or kiss before one or both of them apologized or they figured out a compromise. It had always been easy for them.

 

But not this time.

 

It was _stupid_ really, but they weren't used to only seeing one another for five minutes a day, if even that, before falling in bed to sleep, exhausted. And they hadn't had sex in two months. Before this, the longest they’d gone was the two weeks that Clarke had gone to Europe with her mom the summer after they graduated high school.

 

Their usual Saturday night date night was forgotten by both. They didn't _talk_ like they used to. Didn't communicate.

 

_That_ had ultimately killed their relationship. They'd never had to deal with such busy, exhausting schedules, even when Lexa was training for soccer. They'd never had to _work_ at communicating--it had always come naturally--so they failed miserably when things got exponentially tough.

 

They both knew it was stupid, but they were also both too goddamn stubborn to break first. Clarke was barely home anymore, in class or in a study group. Lexa wasn't home much either, spending upwards of sixteen hours a day, seven days a week at the academy. It was a grueling process, both mentally and physically exhausting.

 

So when the topic of money arose, they didn’t handle it well. Lexa had ended up packing a bag and yelling that she was going to stay with Marie, who still lived in the same apartment as when they met the woman. Clarke had slammed the front door behind her as she seethed.

 

She'd seethed for two days until she'd come home from a long day of classes to find Lexa's things gone. Her half of the closet emptied. Her toothbrush missing.

 

That's when she'd broken down, fell into the bed--their bed--and sobbed. And that's how Raven found her later that evening. Of course she'd heard what happened. Clarke hadn't told her, but Anya had. She found her best friend falling apart and held her until she'd cried out all her tears.

 

But now she was a shell.

 

Seven days had passed and she was going to get drunk. Only, they didn't have any alcohol. No, scratch that, _she_ didn't have any alcohol. Since, you know, Lexa no longer lived there.

 

So she went to a bar. She went to a bar and proceeded to drink in her sorrows. She knew it wasn't the answer. She knew it wouldn't solve anything. But she drank anyway. She just wanted it to stop hurting, if even for a brief moment.

 

She woke the the following morning in her own bed, still fully dressed with the mother of all hangovers and no recollection of how she'd gotten home.

 

Until she saw the glass of water, two Aleve, and a note.

 

_Take care of yourself._

 

Lexa. That was Lexa's handwriting.

 

Then it all came back to her. Oh god. She'd drunk dialed the girl. Sobbed into the phone in her drunken state as she slumped over the bar. Yelled at her. Begged her to come home. Told her to go fuck herself. And that she still loved her. All in one breath before hanging up.

 

Lexa must have figured out where she was (she didn't remember mentioning it, but she must have) because she showed up twenty minutes later to pull Clarke out of the bar and into her car. She'd taken her home, held her hair as she puked up her guts, then helped her into bed where she passed out. Fully clothed.

 

Clarke was mortified.

 

In the following weeks, she avoided all of Lexa's favorite places. The coffee shop around the corner. The little Italian bistro near campus. The independent grocery store. Their shared gym.

 

She didn't go home for the Thanksgiving break. Instead, she ignored her mother's calls and texts asking when she'd arrive--again, it wasn't real if she didn't admit it, right? The Tuesday before the holiday, Abby showed up at the apartment unannounced, took one look at Clarke, and hugged her tight as Clarke cried--again--on her shoulder. Iris had apparently relayed the news of their break up, and when Clarke wouldn't answer her calls, she'd rescheduled her surgeries to be there for her daughter.

 

Thanksgiving was spent eating Chinese food on the couch and watching old Alfred Hitchcock movies.

 

Lexa wasn't faring much better. The academy was still kicking her ass in a way it had never been kicked before. She was used to long hours of training for soccer, but the academy was a whole new level. She was training next to sexist men who took one look at her slim build and assumed she'd never hack it. So on top of her extra hours at the firing range, she trained harder than anyone, harder than ever before. She was developing new muscles in places she didn't know muscles could develop. She was in the best shape of her life and when she looked in the mirror, she always wondered if Clarke would appreciate the new definition of her arms or the enhanced V of her lower abdomen.

 

Except Clarke wouldn't get the chance to appreciate her new definition.

 

When she first left the apartment after that nonsense but relationship-murdering fight, she thought maybe they just needed a few days to cool off. A few days and they'd be running back into each other's arms and be fine.

 

But that hadn't happened. And it hadn't happened because nothing had changed. She was still spending most of her days training and studying to prove herself and she assumed Clarke was still spending her days in class, in lab, and highlighting her textbooks with her study group. She wondered briefly if Clarke had met someone else in her study group, but had immediately dismissed that idea. She knew Clarke too well.

 

When she'd gotten a call from Clarke a week after _The Fight_ , she'd been approaching mile seven of her ten mile run. Her heart had raced (more than it already was), hoping Clarke was calling to ask her to talk.

 

But she'd been drunk. And she'd yelled at her and begged her to come back all in one breath. Then the sound of shuffling as Clarke protested and a new voice came onto the line.

 

“Lexa, I know she's not your girl anymore, but you need to come pick her up because I'm not letting her leave alone in this state.” It was Luna, the owner of the bar they used to go to by campus.

 

So she had. She'd walked into the building to find Clarke slumped over the bar top, Luna nearby to keep an eye on her. “Thanks,” Lexa said to her. Luna nodded and turned her attention to a new customer.

 

“Clarke, let's get you home.”

 

Clarke jolted upright, nearly falling off the stool. “Lexaaaaaa,” she slurred. “You came back. I knew you'd come back.”

 

Lexa gripped her arm and led her out of the bar and into her car without saying a word. She was still pissed off from their fight, but seeing Clarke again also made her miss her even more, drunken state and all.

 

Drunk Clarke was a clingy Clarke. But it was also an overly-honest Clarke. On the way back to the apartment, Lexa got an earful of both how much Clarke loved her and how much she hated her. “But not hate like I wanna punch you in the balls,” the blonde corrected as she hiccuped. “More like I wanna… like I wanna… okay fineeeee. I don' hate youuuu. I jus’ wanna hate you so it doesn't hurt so much so I pretend to hate you okay? So I really hate you. Okay?”

 

Lexa didn't say anything in response. Instead, she pulled into a parking spot, put her car in park, and got out. As she rounded the car to help Clarke, she paused in the back and took a deep breath in attempt to calm herself. It didn't work and she could feel the sting of her tears building up in her nose. The back of her throat had a painful lump. But she didn't want to cry in front of Clarke. She couldn't.

 

Inside, she managed to get Clarke to their bedroom. No. Clarke's bedroom. Clarke's bed. Not theirs. Not anymore.

 

She contemplated helping her undress and get into something more comfortable, but when she heard a soft snore telling her that Clarke had already passed out, she decided against it. She just took off her shoes and covered her with a throw blanket instead. Before leaving, she left the note, water, and painkillers, knowing she'd need them in the morning.  

 

Then she left. As soon as she got in her car, she broke down, crying loud and into her steering wheel. She wanted nothing more than to go back inside, curl up next to Clarke, and be there when she awoke so they could talk this out and get over whatever this was. She missed her. She missed her so goddamn much and it was killing her.

 

But instead of going back upstairs, her pride won out. She drove home instead. Well, she drove to Marie’s, anyway. She didn't currently have a home.

 

For Thanksgiving, she stuck to her original plan and drove to her parents’ house. She wondered briefly if Clarke and Abby would be there. She wasn't surprised to see neither of them. But she was a bit surprised to see Raven. But it made sense. Iris and Gustus had become like parents to Raven, and she was still with Anya. Actually, they were engaged. So of course Raven was here.

 

But that also meant she wasn't with Clarke, and that made Lexa sad.

 

“I'm not picking sides,” Raven explained later. “I've spent a lot of time with her over the last week, so now I'm spending time with you guys. Besides, Abby went to go see her.”

 

That did make her feel a bit better. At least she had someone.

 

That night as she slept in her old bedroom, she couldn't help but miss Clarke even more. She missed her most at night, particularly on nights like this when she couldn't sleep, which was most nights as of late. She and Clarke used to always talk about things while in bed, after lights out. Maybe that's what had been their biggest downfall. They'd started immediately falling asleep when the lights got turned off and their relationship hadn't been the same since.

 

She unlocked her phone and stared at the message icon. She wondered if Clarke was awake. She wondered what she was doing. If she texted her, would she text back?

 

She clicked on iMessage and found Clarke's name. She'd been unable to delete their message thread. She opened it and looked through their last several messages. All short and devoid of any emotion or real conversation. No I love you’s or words of encouragement like they used to send all the time.

 

Lexa's fingers typed out a message without her permission.

 

_I miss you._

 

Her thumb hovered over the send button. But she couldn't press it.

 

Instead, she backed out of the thread and swiped left on Clarke's name until the red box appeared. ‘Delete.’

 

She deleted the thread then proceeded to curl on her side and cry into her pillow.

 

This is not how things were supposed to go.

  
  


**December, 2022**

 

Clarke made it through finals. Barely. She had to hole herself up in the library with her earbuds glued in her ears blasting 90’s hip hop to drown out the thoughts of Lexa enough to study for her gross anatomy class that was already kicking her ass. There was nothing like an N.W.A. rap to get her to focus. It didn't make sense, but it helped.

 

She made her first ever C that semester, but she considered it a win given her situation. (Though, she was already planning to retake the class at some point to replace it with an A.)

 

She went home for Christmas, no longer able to be in the place she'd shared with Lexa. Christmas was Lexa's favorite holiday.

 

On Christmas Eve, she found herself at the Blakes’ annual Christmas party and hating every second of it. Her mom had pressed her to attend, stating that it would be good for her to get out. That was code for she was disappointed that all Clarke did during the break so far was sit around in sweatpants, watch _Bob’s Burgers_ , and eat Christmas cookies. Then Octavia had threatened her with bodily harm if she didn't attend.

 

What she hadn't expected was to see Lexa there.

 

Of course she was there. Iris was close friends with Aurora Blake, too. She wouldn't have been surprised if their mothers had schemed to get them in the same room.

 

Typical.

 

It was the first time she’d seen Lexa since they’d broken up, minus that time during her drunken state. Lexa hadn't spotted her yet. She was half hiding in the corner, after all, avoiding having to talk to, well, everyone. She watched as Lexa interacted with a few people. She smiled and laughed and looked to be having a good time.

 

Meanwhile, Clarke felt like the requisite Scrooge.

 

Watching Lexa smile at Mrs. Blake broke Clarke. She missed that smile. She missed having that smile directed at her.

 

Then Lexa was looking her way and their eyes met.

 

Clarke downed the rest of her eggnog, wishing the rum was stronger, and pushed away from the wall. She headed towards the kitchen, feeling claustrophobic in the crowd. She was nearly to the door when her mother stepped into her path.

 

“Clarke, have you actually interacted with anyone?” she asked, looking concerned.

 

Clarke just shook her head and pushed past her mother, not wanting her to see the tears welling up in her eyes.

 

“Clarke!” she heard her mother call after her, but she didn't stop. She didn't stop until she'd pushed open the back door and breathed in the cool desert air. It was a warm winter so far, but there was still a bit of a chill in the air. Clarke welcomed it against her arms and legs, both left bare by the dress that her mother insisted that she wear. She sat on the top step of the back deck, grateful for the moment to herself as she pulled her knees to her chest and buried her face in her arms.

 

Her solitude only lasted a few moments, however. Behind her, the door opened and Clarke sighed, fully expecting it to be her mother. “I'm not in the mood, Mom,” she said, unmoving.

 

But Clarke felt movement beside her as someone sat next to her, not too close, but close enough that she could smell them. That scent. She knew that scent. Lavender and patchouli.

 

Lexa.

 

Clarke didn't move, however, not wanting to be disappointed if her sense of smell was deceiving her. So she sat there. Waiting.

 

Lexa had figured Clarke would be at the Blakes’ Christmas party. She always was. So she planned to skip it. But then her mother had guilted her into going. So she was determined to pretend Clarke wasn't there instead.

 

She'd been throwing herself into her training over the last month, pushing herself harder than ever. At first it had been to prove herself worthy over her male counterparts. But it had quickly morphed into a way to forget about her despair. See, when she was pushing herself to her limit, she could ignore everything other than her breathing and heart rate.

 

So she pushed herself. And pushed herself. And pushed herself some more.

 

And it worked. In the moment.

 

Except she had to sleep sometime. And when she slept, she dreamt of Clarke. Sometimes it was a steamy dream, but most of the time it was everyday things. Cooking together. Cuddling on the couch. Holding hands as they walked town the boardwalk. Things like that. Things they used to do before they got busy.

 

So she wasn't getting much sleep to say the least. But at least she was improving her times on the fitness tests.

 

Seeing Clarke at the Christmas party threw her for a bigger loop than she'd expected. She'd _expected_ to be sad. She'd _expected_ to simply avoid her at all costs.

 

What she hadn't expected was to have her breath completely knocked out of her when she saw her girlfriend--no, her _ex_ -girlfriend--looking equally as miserable but stunningly beautiful, nevertheless. She could see the dark circles under her eyes that no amount of concealer could hide and she wondered if they were due to her late nights studying or if she was also struggling to sleep.

 

Then their eyes locked and she struggled to breathe.

 

When Clarke made a hasty exit, Lexa had to to follow. She didn't know why. Her plan was to avoid. Following was the opposite of avoiding.

 

“Clarke!” she heard Abby call out as the blonde pushed through the kitchen door. The surgeon began to follow, but Lexa stopped her.

 

“I'll go,” she said from behind Abby, surprising her.

 

“Lexa, hi,” Abby said. She gave her a small smile of greeting. Then she surprised Lexa by hugging her. “I miss you, you know. I have a feeling you two will work through this.” She didn't give Lexa a chance to reply before walking off, leaving Lexa in a stupor. Everyone kept saying that. So why couldn't she believe it?

 

Clarke obviously was expecting her mother to follow her out back, but she didn't say anything to correct her when she spoke. She couldn't find the right words. So she just sat instead and waited in silence.

 

Finally she spoke. “What happened to us, Clarke?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it was raw with emotion.

 

“I don't know,” Clarke said honestly, still not moving from her position.

 

“We never fought before,” Lexa said, looking straight ahead into the darkness. “Not like that.”

 

Clarke remained silent, not knowing what to say.

 

“I mean, we used to spend all our free time together, but then we didn't have any free time,” Lexa continued. “You started medical school and were never there anymore--”

 

Clarke abruptly sat up and turned to face Lexa. “You weren't there, either,” she snapped.

 

“I know.”

 

Clarke softened, hearing the pain in Lexa's voice. She turned to face forward once again. “Thank you for driving me home that night.”

 

Lexa didn't have to ask what she meant. She just nodded. “I still care about you, Clarke.”

 

Clarke bit her bottom lip, wondering if that meant that Lexa no longer loved her. She ‘cared’ about her? The thought that Lexa could have fallen out of love with her hurt the most. But she wasn't about to ask. Her heart--and pride--couldn't take it if Lexa confirmed her suspicion.

 

Instead, she angrily wiped the tears from her cheeks and stood. “You know what pisses me off?”

 

Lexa stared up at her, her heart clenching when Clarke hadn't said that she also still cared. Did she? She didn't dare ask, not sure she would be able to handle it if Clarke said no. She stood so that she didn't feel so small in front of Clarke. “What's that?” she asked, preparing her for the worst.

 

“I didn't even know it would be our last time.”

 

Lexa blinked in confusion. “What?”

 

“Sex, Lexa,” Clarke huffed. “I don't even _remember_ the last time we had sex.”

 

“Oh,” Lexa said, swallowing. “Um. It was August. Lincoln’s birthday celebration.”

 

Clarke nodded, remembering. “Right,” she said. “I started school a few days later and things…” she trailed off, shrugging. She straightened up and shook her head. “Anyway, I didn't know that it would be our last time and that pisses me off.” She glanced behind her and made what was probably a terrible decision, but she couldn't stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth as she turned back to Lexa. “Follow me.”

 

She didn't wait to see if Lexa was following her. She knew she would. She walked down the steps of the back deck to round the pool that was covered for the winter. She continued on down a short pathway to the small casita that the Blakes used as a guest house.

 

“Clarke, what are we doing?” Lexa asked, though she had an idea. She should turn and walk away. She knew she should. She should just return to the original plan and--

 

“You're going to fuck me,” Clarke said simply as she rooted in the flower box on the front window where she knew there was a hidden key. She quickly found it and unlocked the door.

 

“Clarke, this is a bad idea,” protested even as she followed Clarke into the casita. Even as she was the one to close and lock the door behind them.

 

Clarke turned on a dim light and turned to face her. “So leave,” she said. She reached behind her and unzipped her dress. “If this is a bad idea, if you don't want to do this, go back to the party and we'll forget all about this.” Her dress dropped to the ground revealing her plain black cotton bra and panties. She hadn't planned on anyone seeing her underwear that night. But she was glad they at least matched.

 

Lexa stood transfixed at the sight before her. Clarke was standing there in just her underwear and high heeled ankle boots. She was stunning. “I can't,” she said and surged forward to capture Clarke’s lips with her own.

 

It was a terrible, horrible, very bad idea and they both knew it.

 

But neither one cared.

 

Soon, they were both naked and tumbling onto the small bed pushed into the corner of the studio-style dwelling. Lexa ended up on top of Clarke and immediately attached her lips to the tip of one breast while her hand came up to tease the other.

 

Clarke's hands were everywhere. In Lexa's hair, running over her breasts, gripping her ass, and gliding over new muscles before coming to settle on Lexa's abs. “You've been working hard,” she gasped out as she encountered the deep V leading to her crotch. “Fuck, that's hot.” Then she was gripping her dick firmly in her hand.

 

“Shit, Clarke,” Lexa gasped, letting go of her nipple with a slight pop.

 

“Fuck me,” Clarke demanded, spreading her legs as wide as she could and guiding Lexa between them. She paused when tip pressed at her entrance. “Wait, do we, uh, need as condom?”

 

Lexa knew exactly what Clarke was asking. Had she been with anyone else? “I haven't slept with anyone else,” she said. “You?”

 

Clarke shook her head. “Me neither.”

 

“Good,” Lexa said. She hoped it sounded like she was just happy that she didn't have to take the time to find a condom and not that she was glad Clarke hadn't slept with anyone else. Because it was ninety-nine percent the latter.

 

She lined herself up and surged forward, plunging into Clarke in one solid thrust.

 

Clarke gasped and arched upwards, sobbing in relief at feeling Lexa inside her once again. How had she lived without this for nearly four months?

 

“Fuck,” Lexa hissed when Clarke clenched her inner walls around her dick, wanting her--no, _needing_ her--to fuck her.

 

“Please,” Clarke begged. She dug her nails into Lexa's shoulders, leaving behind little half-moons indentations from her nails. “Please move. Fuck me.”

 

Lexa did, gripping one of Clarke's supple thighs and bringing it up to rest high on her own waist as she thrust hard and quick into her. Each inward thrust drew out a breathy moan from Clarke, driving Lexa to push harder and harder. She wanted Clarke to feel this for days. Wanted her to remember it for a lifetime.

 

Clarke pushed against her shoulder in a move that Lexa knew well. She went with it, allowing Clarke to roll her onto her back so that the blonde could ride her. She knew it was Clarke's favorite position. She said she could feel her the deepest in this position.

 

As Clarke threw her head back and rode her hard, her breasts bounced with each movement. Lexa had long ago decided that this was her favorite position as well. She gripped Clarke's hips in her hands and urged her to continue even as she sat up so that she could close her lips around one of her pebbled nipples. She bit down slightly until she heard Clarke gasp and make that incredible whining noise in the back of her throat that meant she was feeling a delicious pleasure-pain. She soothed the nipple with her tongue before moving to the other.

 

Clarke continued to ride Lexa, feeling her orgasm closing in as each movement caused her clit to brush against Lexa's pelvic bone. She moved her hands to Lexa's chest, palming her breasts and squeezing. She pinched each small nipple before running her hands down her torso to move over the swell of newly defined abs. Lexa had already had incredible abs, but these. These abs were the stuff of fitness magazines. Not so defined as as not to still be feminine, but holy shit on a shingle, she was ripped. Clarke suddenly had the desire to find a quarter and see if she could bounce it off the taut muscles.

 

But when Lexa suddenly pulled out of her and urged her to turn over, all thoughts of quarters left her mind. Next thing she knew, she was on her hands and knees and Lexa was thrusting into her from behind, hands gripping her hips so hard that she was sure to leave bruises.

 

Lexa pounded into her, knowing that while Clarke on top was Clarke's favored position for intimacy, this was the position that gave her the strongest orgasms because of the way her cock pressed that sensitive area on the front of her walls and how her balls would slap her clit when she moved just right.

 

_There_.

 

“Oh fuck,” Clarke gasped as she felt Lexa hit that sweet spot inside her again and again as her orgasm quickly approached. She pressed her chest into the covers beneath her and presented her ass to Lexa, allowing her rut into her with wild abandon. “Fuck, Lexa, I'm so close.”

 

“Me, too,” Lexa gasped out, feeling that familiar tingling in her extremities.

 

Clarke pressed back as hard as she could with each of Lexa's thrusts, then she gasped as she fell head first into oblivion, cumming hard around Lexa's length. “Oh god, I'm cumming, yes, don't stop, I'm cumming,” she cried out, hands gripping the duvet so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

 

Lexa felt Clarke clenching around her as she came, gripping her tightly and triggering Lexa's own orgasm. “Shit,” she gasped out as she tensed and thrust one last time as deep as she could and came inside Clarke, whose walls were still spasming, milking every ounce of cum from Lexa.

 

Lexa collapsed on top of Clarke, making sure to shift most of her weight off of her, but remaining inside her while they caught their breaths. It was then that Lexa realized the full extent of what they'd just just done. She didn't regret it--she could never regret sex with Clarke. But it still complicated things.

 

It became even more complicated when Lexa felt Clarke's shoulders shake as she cried beneath her.

 

Clarke tried to stop herself from crying, but being this close to Lexa made her so incredibly sad knowing this was it for them. This was the official end. Break up sex. Octavia had explained it to her when she and Lincoln had split up a few years ago, but she'd slept with him one more time. It was supposed to help give you closure. Peace. (What Octavia conveniently failed to bring up was the fact that they’d ended up back together a year after they split up.)

 

But all it did was break her heart even more.

 

Dammit.

 

“Clarke?” Lexa said softly behind her, her hand coming to rest lightly on her shoulder in what was supposed to be a comforting gesture.

 

“Please leave,” Clarke sobbed into the pillow. She didn't want her to see her like this.

 

“Clarke, talk to me.”

 

“I c-can't,” Clarke cried, curling herself into the fetal position, facing the wall and away from Lexa. “Just go. Please. If you still care about me at all anymore, leave me.”

 

And so Lexa did. What else was she supposed to do?

  


**January 2023**

 

The second (third) time she saw Lexa post-break up was a few days after new year day, back in LA. As she prepared for the new semester of classes, she was going through a box looking for a textbook she knew she'd save from an undergraduate class that was a required text for one of her classes. But the box she opened didn't contain any textbooks.

 

It was a quilt. Handmade and consisting of old UCLA t-shirts.

 

She sat back on her heels and sighed heavily, remembering the night she'd shared with the other owner of the quilt just a few weeks prior on Christmas Eve. She wasn't proud of how she'd acted afterwards, kicking Lexa out of the bed so soon after. But she'd been a mess. Hell, she was still a mess. And she didn't want Lexa to see that. She didn't want her to know how weak she was without her.

 

Everything was so fucked up.

 

Still, she pulled her phone out of her back pocket and snapped a photo of the quilt in the box, then opened a new message thread. She attached the photo and typed out a message with it.

 

_Who gets custody of the quilt?_

 

Before she could second guess herself, she sent the message and continued her search for the textbook. Not even a minute later, her phone buzzed with an incoming message.

 

_I get every other weekend and summers. We go back and forth for Christmas, Thanksgiving, and Easter._

 

Clarke couldn't help the small grin that crept onto her face as she typed a reply.

 

_The furniture is technically yours, too. Your parents bought it all._

 

She sighed as she looked around at the pieces that had been _theirs_ for years.

 

_It was for both of us. Not just me. And I don't have a place to put any of it. We can figure it out when I find a new place._

 

An idea popped into Clarke's head.

 

_At least take the quilt while I have all the furniture. I feel guilty._

 

There was no response for several minutes as Clarke's heart raced. She knew exactly what would happen if Lexa agreed to come get the quilt.

 

_Okay. Be there in half an hour._

 

Fuck. Okay. She could do this. She could do this and not break down crying afterwards like a fucking schoolgirl. But she was horny and her only other options were to take care of it herself or find someone else to hook up with. The former hadn't worked--she couldn’t even get herself off with a vibrator, dammit--and the latter made her squirm in discomfort. She didn't _want_ anyone else. She wanted Lexa.

 

And now she had half an hour to get ready.

 

Across town, Lexa was rushing to shower and change, not wanting to make Clarke wait. She knew exactly what was happening and she knew it was another bad idea.

 

But she couldn't _not_ do it.

 

She knew it was risky, especially with how Clarke had treated her the last time. She'd been upset at first, pissed off, even. But over the last few weeks, she came to understand. She and Clarke processed feelings very differently. While she poured herself into physical activity like running or sit-ups, Clarke poured herself into her art. Sex was a physical act, so Lexa was easily able to revel in the post-sex haze. But Clarke didn't have the chance before her emotions caught up with her. Of course she'd asked her to leave.

 

If it had been her crying like that, she wouldn't have wanted Clarke to see her like that either.

 

Which is why this was another terrible idea. But that didn't mean she wasn't going to go through with it.

 

She felt weird knocking on the door of the apartment that she used to call home. But it didn't feel right just walking in, even though she still had a key. Clarke answered quickly anyway. She'd probably been waiting by the door.

 

“Hi,” Lexa said, standing awkwardly in the doorway.

 

“Hey,” Clarke echoed. She moved aside and let Lexa enter. “The quilt is in there.” She pointed to a gray storage bin that sat on the floor beside the couch.

 

“Uh, thanks,” Lexa said. She moved towards the bin to pick it up.

 

“I'm sorry about Christmas Eve,” Clarke suddenly said, stopping Lexa in her tracks.

 

When Lexa looked up, she saw that Clarke was looking down at the ground, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “It's okay,” Lexa said softly. “I get it.”

 

Clarke looked up, meeting her eye. “You do?”

 

Lexa nodded. “Yeah.”

 

“You're not mad?”

 

Lexa shrugged. “I was at first, but then I thought about it and realized that I'd have done the same thing. If it were me crying, I mean.”

 

Clarke looked embarrassed again as she folded her arms across her stomach in a move of self-preservation. “Right,” she said. “I, ah, about that…”

 

Lexa held up a hand. “You don't have to explain,” she said. “I cried, too. Just, in private.”

 

Clarke nodded, but didn't say anything more.

 

“So,” Lexa said after a minute. “I should just take this and go, then.”

 

Clarke chewed on her bottom lip. “Or,” she started, then hesitated.

 

“Or?” Lexa repeated. When Clarke shook her head, Lexa realized that she was going to have to take the lead this time. “Or,” she stressed. “I could bend you over this couch and fuck you again.”

 

If Clarke was at all surprised, she didn't show it. Instead, she reached for the button of her own jeans and undid it before yanking the zipper down. “I can't promise I won't cry again.”

 

“It's okay,” Lexa said, moving to help her push the jeans and underwear down her thighs until she could kick them to the side. “This is a bad idea anyway.” She turned Clarke to face the tall back of the couch and pressed between her shoulders to force her to drape over the plush material.

 

“So why are you doing it?” Clarke asked as she felt Lexa undoing her own jeans and pushing them down far enough to release her erection.

 

“I don't know,” Lexa said as she stepped up behind her. She tested Clarke's readiness with her fingers, humming in pleasure when she encountered slick heat. “No, that's a lie,” she corrected as she lined herself up. “Condom?”

 

Clarke shook her head. “I'm still good.”

 

“Me, too.” Then Lexa was pushing inside, sinking into Clarke with a single stroke and drawing deep moans from both of them.

 

“What’s a lie?” Clarke asked, gasping as Lexa began to move at a quick pace.

 

“Huh?”

 

“You said you didn't know why you're doing this, then said that was a--oh!--a lie. Why?”

 

Lexa hissed as she felt Clarke clamp down on her hard. She panted out a reply. “I--oh fuck--I'm doing this because I can't stop thinking about you. Thinking about this. I miss this.”

 

She meant that she missed the closeness to Clarke. The intimacy. Just _being_ with her, sex and everything that came with being in a relationship. But all Clarke heard was that she missed fucking her. Goddammit.

 

Clarke gritted her teeth and concentrated on Lexa behind her, suddenly wanting it to be over and last forever at the same time. Her head was reeling from the cognitive dissonance.

 

What the fuck was happening?

 

This time, Clarke managed to hold herself together until Lexa left, quilt forgotten. Then she cried herself to sleep again, cursing her weakness.

 

She vowed then that would be the _real_ last time she had break up sex with Lexa Woods.

 

She threw herself into her studies, her classes just as intense and time-consuming as the prior semester. Only this time, she wasn't sleeping well. After nearly five years of sharing a bed with Lexa, sleeping alone kept her awake at night.

 

Lexa was having the same issue. And Marie's couch certainly wasn't helping. Maybe it was time to start looking for a place of her own.

 

She glanced at the time and cringed. Okay. Not yet. Not while she was still in the academy. After. She'd find a place in March.

 

For now, she sat on the couch nursing a cup of chamomile tea, hoping the herbs would help lull her to sleep. They never did, but she tried anyway. As she sipped, she tried to think of anything but a certain blonde woman.

 

She knew they were being ridiculous, but she couldn't bring herself to approach Clarke about it. Why? Why was this so hard?

 

“Can't sleep?”

 

Lexa started at the question. She hadn't realized she was no longer alone in the living room. “Oh, hey,” she said, setting the mug on the coffee table. “Sorry. I hope I didn't wake you.”

 

Marie waved her off and shuffled over to sit next to her on the couch. “Nonsense,” she said. “When you get to be my age, you're up several times a night to pee.”

 

Lexa chuckled.

 

“Tell me,” Marie insisted. “Are you unable to sleep because of a certain blonde?”

 

Lexa shrugged. There was no use lying to Marie. The woman was like a human lie detector. “Something like that,” she admitted. She sighed.

 

“When are you two going to get your heads out of your asses and just do the hanky panky already?”

 

Lexa stared at her in disbelief. “Excuse me?”

 

Marie nodded. “Sex,” she clarified.

 

“I know what hanky panky means, Marie,” Lexa sighed. “My shock was about the suggestion to have sex, not your eclectic nomenclature of the act.”

 

“Right,” Marie said. “If you two do it again, you'll remember how good you are together and how much you love one another and you'll see how stupid this is and just get back together already. Worked for Rhonda and I back in the eighties.”

 

Lexa gnawed on her lower lip. “I don't think that will work for us,” she said slowly.

 

“Oh pish posh,” Marie said with confidence. “Sure it will.”

 

“No, it won't.”

 

“And how can you be so confident about that?” Marie asked, an expectant look on her face.

 

Lexa sighed deeply and sunk back against the couch cushions. “Because if it did we’d be back together already.”

 

“Oh,” Marie said. “So you two have…” she trailed off.

 

Lexa nodded. “Twice.”

 

“Twice!” Marie look scandalized. “And why did I not know about this? When?”

 

Lexa heaved a heavy sigh. “Because it wasn't supposed to be a big deal. Christmas Eve the first time. Then again about a week ago.”

 

Marie tisked. “Lexa, sweetie, are you sure you're doing it right?”

 

Lexa sent her a glowering look.

 

“I'm just sayin’,” Marie said. “That girl still loves you.”

 

“I'm not so sure about that,” Lexa said. “I mean, I know she loves me, but I'm not sure she's still _in_ love with me.”

 

“Bullshit,” Marie countered. “That love versus in love crap is pure hokum.”

 

Lexa sighed. “Just calling it like I see it.”

 

“Did Clarke tell you that?”

 

“She didn't have to,” Lexa replied. “I told her that I still cared and she didn't say anything.”

 

Marie huffed. “Care? You _care_ about her? I _care_ about my hair stylist. I _care_ about my cleaning lady. Clarke probably got derailed by your use of care over love. Now, I'm going to go back to bed and I need you to stop being so goddamn stubborn if that's at all possible. Goodnight.”

 

Lexa pondered Marie's words as she lay there for the rest of the night, sleep still alluding her. When the sun began to peek over the mountains, she gave up trying and got dressed to go for another run. Marie said she was pushing herself too hard physically, but Lexa knew if she didn't, she'd dwell too much on being sad. She didn't have time to be sad.

 

She had a goddamn academy fitness test to set records for, and a target waiting with her name on it to obliterate.

  


**February, 2023**

 

February proved to be a bit easier for Clarke. Well, at least emotionally. Her classes were still kicking her ass but that proved to be a good thing. It meant she was so bogged down with studying and reading and completing assignments that she didn't have time to be sad.

 

Of course, there was still that pesky time of day when it was time to sleep, but at least her days were easier to get through.

 

Until the day before Valentine’s Day. Neither of them had been big on the holiday, preferring not to give in to the holiday created by Hallmark to make a quick profit. Instead, they focused on their anniversary in April as well as birthdays and Christmas. April 14th would be hard, but Valentine's Day? Piece of cake.

 

Or so she’d thought.

 

“Yo, Clarke, what are you doing to celebrate tomorrow?” one of the guys, Roan, in her study group asked as they were packing up for the night. The library was closing in five minutes.

 

“Huh?” Clarke gave him a confused look.

 

“Tomorrow, Valentine’s Day,” Roan clarified. “Got any big plans with your lady?”

 

Another member of the group, Monroe, elbowed him in the ribs.

 

“Ow, what was that for?” he asked.

 

Monroe rolled her eyes and gave Clarke an apologetic look.

 

Clarke sighed. “We broke up,” she said.

 

Roan’s grin fell. “Oh. Sorry.”

 

Clarke shrugged. “It's okay. See you guys on Wednesday.” And she left as quick as she could.

 

She hated Valentine's Day.

 

Tuesday mornings were the only time during the week that Clarke had a moment to breathe. Her first class wasn't until noon and she purposefully made herself not crack open a book or think about anything medically related for the sake of her sanity, a suggestion from her advisor who had seen her spiraling downwards fast, but knew she had amazing potential. The older woman had called her into her office several weeks ago, sat her down, and told her in no uncertain terms that she was to use Tuesday morning to do something that wasn’t school related to relax.

 

But that also meant that there was nothing to keep her from thinking about Lexa during those Tuesday mornings. It had been nearly three months. Shouldn't she be starting to move on by now? What was she doing wrong?

 

She sat on the couch Tuesday morning, Valentine's Day, and tried to pay attention to the episode of Grey’s Anatomy playing on the TV. She liked to try and find all the inaccuracies in the medical aspect of the show to occupy her mind.

 

It wasn't working that morning.

 

Clarke groaned and turned off the TV. She went into the kitchen and was in the process of brewing another cup of coffee when there was a knock at her door. Her heart skipped a beat and she wondered… was it?

 

No.

 

But it was Marie.

 

“Good morning, dear,” Marie said in greeting as she held up a giant bag of Clarke's favorite candy: Reese's peanut butter cups.

 

Clarke smiled and immediately stepped aside to let her in, then hugged her tightly. “It's good to see you,” she said as they parted. “I feel like I don't much anymore.”

 

“It's called a telephone,” Marie said. “You can call me anytime.”

 

Clarke sighed. “Yeah, but it's weird now. What if…?” She trailed off and bit her lip.

 

“What if what, dear?”

 

Clarke slumped onto the couch. “What if she answers?” Marie refused to use a cell phone and still relied on a landline.

 

Marie sat next to her, tore open the bag of chocolate, and handed one to Clarke. “Then you say, ‘hi, may I speak to Marie please?’”

 

Clarke gave her a ‘yeah right’ look. “It's not that simple,” she said.

 

“I think it is,” Marie said, biting into a peanut butter cup. “I think you're making it a lot more complicated that it actually is. Both of you.”

 

“Are we still talking about a phone call?”

 

“What do you think?” Marie gave her a pointed look.

 

Clarke shrugged. “She doesn't want to be with me anymore. Simple as that.”

 

Marie let out a frustrated sound. “You both are driving me crazy. Can't you just sit down and talk about this?”

 

“When? The only free time I have are Tuesday mornings and she's busy. We're both busy all the time. We can't make a relationship work.”

 

“Can't or won't?” Marie asked.

 

“If we could, we would,” Clarke insisted. “But we failed and I can't do it again.”

 

“Do what again?” Marie asked, beginning to understand. “Fail?”

 

Clarke nodded, half eaten peanut butter cup held limply in her hand. “What if we make the same mistakes and split again? I can't feel that pain again. It'll wreck me.”

 

“Then don't make the same mistakes,” Marie said.

 

“Easier said than done,” Clarke replied.

 

“Don't let fear keep you apart,” Marie countered. “It'll only make you miserable.”

 

“What are you? Buddha?” Clarke asked dryly.

 

“I prefer guru,” Marie said.

 

Clarke shook her head. “It doesn't matter anyway,” she said. “She doesn’t want me like that anymore.”

 

“And why do you think that?”

 

“The last time I saw her, she… she said… I just know it, okay?” Clarke glanced at the clock and stood. “I have to start getting ready for class, now.”

 

Marie sighed and stood. She wasn't sure how to her these two to stop being idiots, but she needed to figure something out quick. “Promise you'll think about what I said?” She handed the bag of chocolate to Clarke.

 

Clarke nodded. “I promise.”

 

“And I really think you two need to sit down and _talk_ about this. Not just do the dance with no pants.”

 

Clarke felt her cheeks burn as she barely managed to hold back a retort about how Lexa hadn’t taken off her pants the last time.

 

They hugged and Marie left, leaving Clarke to once again wallow in her thoughts. She pondered Marie's words as she showered and dressed. She knew she was right about being apart making her miserable, but she'd also meant it when she told the older woman that Lexa wasn't interested in being with her anymore. She was sure of it.

 

She just had to try and move on.

 

So when Monroe, who had become a good friend, suggested she set her up with a friend of hers, Clarke said yes.

 

Lexa didn't even realize that it was Valentine's Day until she went to the mess hall for their lunch break. She was sitting in her usual spot with her usual companion, the only other female trainee in her class, Echo.

 

Echo was glaring at her phone and muttering.

 

“What's wrong?” Lexa asked.

 

Echo heaved a dramatic sighed and looked up at Lexa with an unimpressed look. “Bellamy is being an asshole about tonight,” she said, mentioning her boyfriend. In a small world coincidence, her classmate ended up being involved with Octavia’s brother. It still boggled Lexa’s mind that they’d ended up in the same class. “He's trying to get out of it so he can play COD with his friends by saying it makes more sense to celebrate on Friday. Like, what the hell?”

 

“Wait, what's tonight?” Lexa asked, scared she'd forgotten the girl’s birthday or something.

 

Echo gave her a confused look. “Look at your calendar, Woods. It's the 14th.”

 

Oh. Right. Valentine's Day. The ‘day of love.’ Barf. She was glad Clarke and her had never really paid attention to the day. Sure, they'd usually do something like go out to dinner or whatever, but neither of them had been really into it. They never exchanged gifts or even did cards. So it should be an easy thing to ignore.

 

So why did the knowledge that it was Valentine's Day suddenly make her heart clench and make it hard for her to breathe?

 

She wondered if Clarke was spending the evening with anyone. Had she found someone else? Or was she just as lonely as her?

 

“Jerk,” was all Lexa could say in response to Echo.

 

She got through the rest of the day relatively unscathed. Afternoons were mostly target practice and classes. This week was focusing on forensics. Which meant a lot of medical jargon that Clarke would have been able to help explain to her.

 

Okay, so not quite unscathed. But at least she could now go home and… be alone. Even Marie had a date with her hair stylist’s mother, whom she'd met the last time she was getting her roots touched up.

 

She ate a microwave TV dinner--Hungry Man because fuck gender roles--as she watched Bob’s Burgers, hoping it would help her mind turn off for just a little bit.

 

Nope.

 

Of course she thought about Clarke, wondering again what she was currently doing. _Who_ she was doing.

 

Oh gross. No. No, no, no. She couldn't think about that. She _wouldn't_ think about that.

 

Go for another run it is.

 

How she ended up in front of Clarke's building she didn't know. But suddenly, she was knocking on the door, heart racing from more than the four and a half miles she'd run to get there. She waited. And waited. And waited.

 

Clarke wasn't home.

 

In Lexa’s irrational mind, that only meant one thing. She was on a date. She'd moved on.

 

Lexa ran some more.

  
  


**March, 2023**

 

Clarke looked around the restaurant for anyone who looked like they were meeting someone. All Monroe had told her was that her friend’s name was Niylah, and she was tall and had light brown hair.

 

Great description there, Monroe.

 

Not seeing anyone who fit that description and looked to be alone, Clarke took a seat at the bar to wait. She was early, anyway. She ordered a drink in attempt to calm her nerves. She could do this. She had to do this. For her own sanity’s sake, she had to try and move on.

 

“Clarke?”

 

Clarke glanced up from her drink to see a tall woman with light brown hair looking at her in question. “Hi, Niylah?”

 

The woman nodded and held her hand out to Clarke to shake. “It's great to meet you,” she said.

 

Clarke shook her hand and gave her best smile. She tried not to be disappointed in how there were no sparks at the feel of Niylah’s hand in hers. The first time she'd touched Lexa in any way, she'd gotten goosebumps. “Nice to meet you, too,” she said.

 

“Want to grab a table?” Niylah asked.

 

“Sure,” Clarke said and followed her towards an empty booth. A waitress immediately came over and handed them menus.

 

“So, Monroe said you're also a medical student?”

 

Clarke nodded as she took another sip of her drink. “Yes. First year. Only three more years to go.”

 

Niylah laughed, and Clarke noticed the way that it didn't make her swoon. The woman was gorgeous, sure, but Clarke found herself wishing her eyes were green and that her hair was darker and curlier. As they chatted some more, Clarke knew there was no attraction for her. She liked the woman enough, but she wasn't Lexa.

 

“You still love her, don't you?” Niylah suddenly asked.

 

“What?” Clarke said, choking on her food.

 

“I don't remember her name,” Niylah said. “But Monroe warned me that you may still be hung up on your ex.”

 

Clarke gave her a guilty look. “I'm sorry,” she said, fingers playing with the condensation on her glass. “This is the first date I've been on since we broke up.”

 

Niylah leaned forward on the table, looking interested. “How long ago was that?”

 

“November,” Clarke said. “I'm pathetic, I know.”

 

Niylah shook her head. “No. Not pathetic. Just in love. Have you told her this?”

 

Clarke shrugged. “She knows. She doesn't feel the same.”

 

“Are you sure about that? Did she tell you that?”

 

Clarke sighed and stood. “I'm sorry for wasting your time.”

 

She left.

 

But she didn't want to go home. So she ended up at the same bar she'd ended up at last November. The one Lexa found her at, drunk off her ass.

 

She wasn't sure why, but something told her to go inside.

 

Whoa.

 

“Clarke?”

 

“What are you doing here?” Clarke asked, shocked. She hadn't been here in months and the night she does in an effort to forget about her ex, her ex is _there_? Really, universe?

 

“Same as you, I imagine,” Lexa said, indicating her drink on the bar top.

 

Clarke stood there, unable to move, unable to leave, unable to do anything but stare at the woman in front of her. The one who used to make her laugh, make her moan, make her feel _good_ and not just in a sexual way.

 

So it didn't surprise her when, fifteen minutes later, Lexa was pressing her back against the cold, hard brick wall in the back alley, thoroughly kissing her as Clarke frantically worked at the fastenings of Lexa's jeans while Lexa shoved the hem of Clarke's dress upwards.

 

“Condom?” Lexa asked as she stroked Clarke's center through her underwear.

 

This was a game they now played. A way of asking if the other had slept with anyone else without actually asking. By Lexa even asking the question, Clarke knew she'd not been with anyone else. And every time, it gave her a brief moment of hope.

 

“Don't need it,” Clarke replied.

 

And with Clarke's reply of not needing it, Lexa also felt that same moment of hope.

 

Then they were fucking in the back alley of a run down bar. Not their finest moment, but neither of them could find it in themselves to suggest moving somewhere more private and… cleaner. They both were afraid that if they took the time to go somewhere else, the other would make an excuse and bail.

 

Once again, they failed at communicating.

 

But they passed with flying colors at fucking. Lexa had to kiss Clarke hard to swallow her cries of pleasure as she came twice around Lexa's dick. Then Lexa had to sink her teeth into Clarke's shoulder left bare from the thin straps to stop her own cries as she spilled into Clarke.

 

“Why do we keep doing this?” Clarke asked as they stood there, catching their breaths. Lexa was still inside her as Clarke pressed her face into Lexa's neck and inhaled deeply.

 

“I don't know,” Lexa said truthfully.

 

“We should stop,” Clarke said. But she didn't make any move to back away.

 

“Probably.”

 

“I don't want to.” Clarke should want to kick herself for saying that aloud, but she couldn't find the strength to be annoyed at herself. It was the truth, anyway.

 

“Me neither.”

 

And like some unspoken agreement, that was that. Every Friday night from then on, they met at the bar and had dirty break up sex. It was usually in the alley but then Luna caught them on their third Friday and told them in no uncertain terms to fuck off. So they did it in the bathroom.

 

The following Friday, Clarke made a bold move and texted Lexa to meet her at her apartment instead of the bar. She didn't want bar sex where they could only do it once and not even get naked in the process. She needed to get Lexa naked and beneath her. Or on top of her. She wasn't picky as long as they were naked and Lexa was inside her.

 

“Condom?” Lexa asked as poised at her entrance, blissfully naked.

 

“Don't need it,” Clarke answered and tilted her hips upwards as Lexa slid home.

 

Home. This should still be _their_ home. Clarke wanted nothing more than to tell Lexa that as they fucked. No. This wasn't fucking. Not with the tender way that Lexa was looking down at her or the slow, steady rhythm they'd set. Not with the gentle, serious kisses they were sharing.

 

This? This was making love.

 

But neither of them mentioned it.

 

Stubborn assholes.

  
  


Lexa smiled as she was handed her police academy diploma and shook the presenter's hand. She did it. She made it through the academy. Not only that, she was top of her class. Suck on that, chauvinist pigs.

 

Her smile was a facade, however, as she remembered who wasn't there to share in her achievements. They didn't talk about these things. They didn't talk about anything but sex. They didn't ask how the other was doing. They didn't even chat about the weather.

 

Lexa loved the sex, but she hated how much it reminded her of everything else she was missing. She missed _Clarke,_ not just her vagina.

 

But she wasn't about to admit that when it was clear all Clarke wanted from her was sex. She couldn't open herself up to that pain. Not again.

 

So she left her graduation ceremony after receiving hugs from her family and Marie. They offered to take her out for dinner, but Lexa made a lame excuse about already having plans. It only worked because her parents and siblings had surprised her by showing up, so she could get away with pretending to already have plans. Well, not pretending, per say. It was Friday evening after all.

 

She didn't even mention that she'd finished the academy when she saw Clarke.

 

Because they never talked when they fucked.

  
  


**April, 2023**

 

Clarke was on edge. It was the first Friday in over a month that Lexa wasn't coming over. She'd received a text earlier from her.

 

_I can't come over tonight. I'm on graveyard shifts this week. I'm working until 6am._

 

On shift. She knew Lexa had graduated from the academy. And she knew that she'd been top of her class. Marie had told her. Because she and Lexa sure as hell didn't discuss such things. Hell, she was surprised Lexa had even told her that she wasn't coming over that night.

 

On a whim, Clarke messaged her back.

 

_See you at 7am then._

 

There.

 

Clarke would have to bail on her Saturday morning study group, but she didn't care.

 

Her phone buzzed.

 

_Okay_.

 

They should talk. Clarke knew this. But she was terrified of being the first one to do so. She knew it was stupid. This was _Lexa_ for god’s sake. Why the fuck was this so hard?

 

She asked Marie.

 

“Because you love her.”

 

Clarke knit her brow at that answer. “I don't follow.”

 

“You love her,” Marie repeated. “And it scared you when you realized that you two, your relationship, isn't invincible. Tell me, how much did you fight before last fall?”

 

Clarke shook her head. “Almost never,” she said.

 

“Right. You two don't know _how_ to fight.” Marie looked contemplative before continuing. “Rhonda and I fought all the time. But we never let it tear us apart. Because we knew how to talk it out like adults. Remember when we first met and I was iffy on you two living together so young?”

 

Clarke nodded.

 

“This is why. Right here. When things got tough, you both bailed because you didn't have the experience to know how to deal with it. You had it too easy until last fall. You tried to go from riding a tricycle to riding a bike without the training wheels.”

 

Clarke licked her dry lips. “How do we fix that?”

 

Marie gave her a comforting smile. “You get some training wheels.”

  


Lexa’s training officer was a middle aged man with a wife and three kids. Officer Nathan Cowan was a force to be reckoned with. He didn't take shit from anyone--colleagues and perpetrators alike--and could easily bring a suspected criminal to their knees with a single hand.

 

He was also quickly becoming one of Lexa's favorite people.

 

A big, burly black man, Cowan was used to having to prove himself worthy of the badge. Lexa immediately connected with him on that level. When she told him she also had to prove herself because she was a woman, he'd nodded and said that it was a fucked it world.

 

Lexa had to agree.

 

Cowan didn't even bat an eye when she'd told him she was gay, nor did he care when it was revealed that she was intersex. He just asked if that meant they could make dick jokes. Lexa had laughed.

 

And when she'd told him about Clarke, including the break up sex, he told her to ‘woman up’ and tell her how she felt. Lexa said it wasn't that easy.

 

“Why not?”

 

Yeah, Lexa. Why not? Why was it so goddamn hard?

 

“I love her.”

 

“I don't see the connection,” Cowan said.

 

Lexa shrugged. “It's complicated.”

 

“What's complicated about love?”

 

Before she could answer, they were called to the scene of an accident and she pushed all thoughts of Clarke out of her mind as she focused on the job at hand.

  
  


April 14, 2023 fell on a Friday.

 

Clarke had received a text message that morning from Lexa. _Can we talk tonight?_

 

She knew what that meant. She was putting an end to their game. Of all the nights, she had to pick _this_ day? She sent a message in response saything that she was sick and not up for visitors. She couldn’t deal with Lexa putting a stop to... whatever they were doing. Even if they weren’t together-together, at least she got to see her on a regular basis.

 

Then she got in her car and drove as soon as her last class was finished at four. She didn't even stop for food. She wasn't hungry, anyway. She drove north on I-15 through Barstow, continued on through Baker. She didn’t even know where she was going until she got there.

 

_Grand Springs Observation Deck._

 

She paid the fee and continued on, driving until she rounded the corner and came upon one of the less popular pull-offs. The one where they’d first said ‘I love you’ to one another. The one with the permanent chairs that leaned back. But she didn't sit on one. She couldn't. They were made for couples to cuddle on--wide and cozy.

 

Instead, she walked to the railing that surrounded the area, keeping people out of the desert wasteland beyond. She stood there, unable to do anything but let her mind take over. The sun was just starting to set, casting the area in an orange haze. It looked like the mountain range ahead of her was on fire. It was cooling off rapidly as well, but she didn't mind. She welcomed the chill she could already feel through the thin hoodie.

 

She waited. She wasn’t exactly sure what had possessed her to come here. Other than that it was _their_ spot. Hers and Lexa’s. They’d made it a tradition to come here every year on April 14th, even that one year when it had been raining and the park worker had looked at them like they were crazy until they explained that it was tradition. They’d stayed in the car and shared Subway sandwiches before making out in the backseat.

 

She wasn't sure why she was here now. It wasn’t like she had something to celebrate. April 14th was now just another day of the year. It was no longer special.

 

But she needed to do this. Needed to come here one last time on this day and say goodbye, once and for all, before Lexa could do the same with her.

 

So she waited.

  
  


Lexa was in a foul mood all day, and Cowan called her out on it. “Who pissed in your Cheerios today, Woods?”

 

Lexa grumbled something about anniversaries that Cowan didn’t quite catch and when he asked her to clarify, Lexa sighed and dropped the forgotten french fry in her hand back onto her place of barely touched food. “Today would have been six years,” she said. “April 14th.”

 

“And? Weren’t you planning to actually talk to her tonight?” Cowan asked, referring to Lexa’s prior plan to show up with the intent to actually sit and have a discussion rather than jump right into bed.  

 

Lexa pulled out her phone to show him a text message she’d received half an hour ago. “She doesn’t want to see me.”

 

“Seems to me she just made an excuse to not see you because it would be too painful.”

 

Lexa shrugged. “Whatever. I’m done. I can’t do it anymore.”

 

“Woods--”

 

“No,” Lexa interjected. “I can’t. Don’t push me on this. I just need to stop doing… whatever we’re doing and move on.”

 

Cowan rolled his eyes. He hadn’t met Clarke, but if she was half as stubborn as his trainee, he wasn’t sure they’d ever get over whatever was keeping them apart. “Look, Woods. This is a tough job. The hours are shit, the stuff we see… it’s a hard job. And it’s hard on relationships, I’ll admit that. But you can’t keep pushing people away. You need someone to go home to every night. Someone to cry to when you’ve had a bad day because a kid died in your arms after a car accident, or after you see what happens when a drug deal goes wrong. I don’t know Clarke, but from what you’ve told me, she’s that person for you. Don’t be a pussy, woman up, and use your words to talk to her instead of thinking with your dick all the time.”

 

While Lexa cringed at his choice of words, she also knew he was right. She decided to stick to her original plan and show up at Clarke’s anyway as soon as her shift ended. She didn’t even have time to change out of her uniform.

 

Only, she wasn’t there.

 

Lexa stood in front of the door, defeated. Clarke wasn’t sick. (She already knew that, of course). And she wasn’t home. Where the hell was she?

 

Lexa returned to her newly leased pickup truck, intending to go home, shower, and curl up to wallow in self-pity, but she found herself driving out of the city instead. She had no idea where she was going, but she didn’t want to be at home. Marie would just ask too many questions, and while she adored the woman, she wasn’t ready to talk about it. Not yet.

 

She often drove when she didn’t feel like running or working out to clear her thoughts. She had a full tank of gas and nowhere to be until Sunday evening.

 

So she drove.

 

She drove until she reached the place she didn’t know she was headed. She drove until she pulled into the gravel parking area and saw another car already parked there. A familiar car with California plates.

 

No way.

 

She got out and approached the sitting area, the gravel crunching beneath her boots. But the lone occupant of the area didn’t move as they stood at the railing, looking out towards the mountains. So Lexa said the first thing that popped into her head.

 

“I thought you were sick.”

 

Clarke jumped at the voice. She hadn't heard a car pull up, let alone anyone approaching on the noisy gravel. She spun around, sure she was hearing things. It couldn’t be…

 

“Lexa?” She was now sure she was seeing things as well. But she asked anyway. “What are you doing here?”

 

Lexa approached carefully, slowing moving one booted foot in front of the other until she stood in front of Clarke, one a few feet separating them. “It’s tradition,” was all she said.

 

Clarke was silent for a moment, reeling. She hasn't expected Lexa to show up. They hadn't mentioned this place since the last time they were here, exactly a year ago. She swallowed against the lump in her throat and tucked the lock of hair that had blown across her face behind her ear. She gripped the railing with one hand for support as she studied Lexa. She was in her uniform, the starched, dark blue fabric making her look more heroic than ever.

 

Clarke would have swooned had the circumstances been different.

 

As it was, she sank back against the railing, knees threatening to give out in her state of distress. She saw Lexa move to help her, but hesitate. “Why did you come here, Clarke?” she asked instead.

 

Clarke sighed and shrugged one shoulder. “I don't know.” It was the truth.

 

“Why did you tell me you were sick?”

 

“I don't know,” Clarke repeated, this time it was a lie.

 

Lexa immediately knew that. “You do know. Why? Why didn't you want to talk to me?” She moved to stand next to Clarke against the rail to see her better. The sun had all but set, and the only light was the crescent moon overhead.

 

_Light in a moment of darkness._

 

Clarke traced the crescent moon tattoo on her wrist, just below her thumb joint, and she considered those words and Lexa's question.

 

“I didn't want to hear you say you didn't want to… see me anymore.” There. She'd said it. Now she just had to wait for Lexa to confirm her suspicions and she could just fucking _know_ already and--

 

“What are you talking about?” Lexa asked, confused.

 

Clarke looked up and huffed. “Friday nights. Or Saturday mornings when you work Friday nights. Our… whatever it is--”

 

“Sex,” Lexa supplied dryly.

 

“Yeah, that,” Clarke said. “You wanted to ‘talk’ which is code for break up, only we're not together anymore so ‘talk’ is code for stopping the sex. I couldn't hear that. Not tonight.”

 

Lexa blinked in surprise. “You're an idiot.”

 

“Excuse me?” Clarke gasped, shocked and confused and a little bit pissed off. Of all the jackass things to say…

 

“You are an idiot,” Lexa replied, emphasizing each word. “And so am I. We're idiots.”

 

Clarke was still confused. “I don't understand,” she said, frustration making her voice heavy and sharp.

 

Lexa threaded the fingers of one hand through her hair and decided to just go for it. Just ask and get it over with. “Do you still love me?”

 

“What?” Clarke croaked out, head spinning at the seemingly change of topic.

 

“Do you love me? Right now.”

 

Clarke was silent for a moment. She wanted to lie to spare her pride, but she couldn't. Not when it was Lexa standing in front of her. So she nodded slowly. “Yes.”

 

The single word was so soft that it was nearly lost in the breeze. But Lexa heard it, loud and clear. And it was all she needed to give her the confidence and strength to push herself off the railing and close the distance between them. Her hands came up to rest on Clarke's cheeks as she spun her so that her back was against the rail. All this was done in the microsecond before her lips crashed against Clarke's, kissing her with what she hoped was a declaration of her love.

 

Clarke gasped in shock as Lexa kissed her. It wasn't that they hadn't kissed on their Friday night rendezvous, they had--a lot--but this felt different. This felt less like ‘I need to get you naked and writhing beneath me’ and more ‘I still love you and need you in my life.’ And it threw Clarke for a loop.

 

But as much as her brain was loopy-looping, her body immediately responded. Her feet shuffled forward until her front pressed against Lexa's. Her arms came up to wrap around the brunette’s waist, holding her tightly, afraid to let her go. Her lips parted to allow Lexa’s tongue to tangle with her own.

 

Her eyes closed of their own accord, her other senses heightening in compensation.

 

She could smell that lavender and patchouli, mixed with something new--Clarke would later come to know it was the scent of her leather holster and utility belt, both of which she'd already taken off, but the scent of the supple leather remained. She could feel the muscles of Lexa's back beneath her hands and her uniform shirt, well-defined and taut. She could taste a hint of the spearmint gum that Lexa favored on her tongue. She could hear Lexa's hum of pleasure as their tongues tangled in a familiar yet new dance.

 

Finally, Clarke was forced to pull back, the questions tumbling around in her mind outweighing the need to keep kissing her. (But just barely.) She pressed her palms on Lexa’s shoulders, pushing slightly even as she stepped back.

 

“What--?” She let the question hang in the air, still confused and now buzzing with emotion (and arousal, let’s be real).

 

Lexa licked her lips, reveling in the slight taste of Clarke’s preferred Burt’s Bees pomegranate lip balm. “We’re idiots,” she repeated, hands still on Clarke’s cheeks.

 

“You keep saying that,” Clarke said. “And I don’t know what you mean by it.”

 

“I mean,” Lexa said, stressing the words, “that we’ve spent five months apart because we’re both stubborn, prideful _idiots_.”

 

Clarke swallowed. “You mean you still want to be with me?”

 

Lexa gave her an incredulous look. “Are you kidding me? Of course I do. Why do you think I wanted to talk?”

 

“To tell me you wanted to stop--”

 

“Our Friday night sex meetings, yeah,” Lexa said with a sigh. “I do.”

 

Clarke looked hurt and Lexa rushed to explain.

 

“I mean, I don’t want to keep doing the Friday night sex meeting when I can be with you every night. Sleep next to you. Eat dinner with you when we can. I don’t care if I only get to see you half as much as we used to if it means I get to call you my girlfriend again. I miss you.” She stepped closer so that their lips were only an inch apart. “I fucking love you, you idiot.”

 

Clarke surged forward to bury her face in Lexa’s neck as the sobs she’d been holding back finally broke free, rippling through her entire body. She was sobbing from the agony of the last five months. At the unnecessary torture they’d both put themselves through because of their stupid prides.

 

She was sobbing in complete and utter relief.

 

Lexa wrapped her arms around her and held her tightly, her own tears falling into blonde locks. She listened to Clarke’s sobs and felt her heart break because she could have prevented this. She could have fucking womaned up as Cowan would say and put her pride aside and been with Clarke the past five months instead of living on Marie’s couch and wallowing in self-pity.

 

Her heart was breaking all over again, but it was also being repaired, piece by shattered piece.

 

She wasn’t sure how, but Lexa managed to move them to one of the permanent chairs behind them--the same one they’d been sitting on when they first declared their love for one another--and sat, pulling Clarke with her. Clarke went willinging, even urging Lexa back until she was fully reclined against the back. Clarke followed, straddling Lexa’s thighs as she kept her face pressed to her neck. The position wasn’t sexual, but rather comforting, a way for them to be as close as possible in that moment.

 

Clarke’s sobs eventually faded and Lexa’s own tears dried. But they stayed there like that long after they both stopped crying and their breathing returned to normal. It could have been hours, but was probably only twenty minutes, when Clarke broke the silence.

 

“I love you, too, you idiot.”

 

Lexa laughed at the sentiment and pressed a kiss to Clarke’s temple. “I know.”

 

Clarke pushed herself into a sitting position and regarded Lexa carefully in the moonlight. “Why the fuck did we let that happen?”

 

Lexa shook her head. “I don’t know. Marie said it was because we didn’t know how to have a fight because we never fought before all that stress.”

 

Clarke nodded. “That’s what she said to me, too. Said that we didn’t know how to deal with it, so we imploded. I never thought communication would be our downfall.”

 

Lexa sat up and kissed Clarke softly. “Not downfall,” she said. “It didn’t end us. Just a hiccup. A bump in the road. Because I’m not letting that happen ever again. I need you too much. I was a fucking mess.”

 

Clarke grinned. “But a beautiful mess,” she said, hands coming to rest on Lexa’s abs. “I never got to tell you, because we never _talked_ , but you have no idea what this does to me.” She let her hands trace over where the V line that Lexa had recently acquired resided beneath her clothing. “You’re so fucking sexy. You went to the gym when you couldn’t sleep, didn’t you?”

 

Lexa nodded. “Or went for a ten mile run. When I couldn’t sleep or stop thinking about you. Which was pretty much all the time. I probably really overdid it, but nothing else worked.”

 

Clarke made a face. “Meanwhile, I just stuffed my face with chocolate and greasy food and gained ten pounds,” she pouted. “Why didn’t I go to the gym?”

 

“You are as sexy as ever,” Lexa insisted, hands settling on Clarke’s hips.

 

Clarke shrugged. “I don’t really care. It all went to my boobs and ass, anyway.” She grinned again, knowing those were two of Lexa’s favorite parts of her body.

 

Sure enough, Lexa’s hands slid around to grip Clarke’s asscheeks. She smiled appreciatively, but then turned serious again. “We really do need to talk about this, though,” she said. “Like, actually sit down and have a long conversation about what exactly went wrong and how we can avoid it in the future. We’re going to fight, so we need to know how to better manage it when we do.”

 

Clarke bit her lower lip and nodded. “I, ah, was talking to Octavia and she mentioned something about how couples therapy helped her and Lincoln when they reconciled. She said it really helped their communication skills.”

 

Lexa nodded, liking the idea. “We can try that,” she said. “If we can find the time.”

 

“I’m better with my time management,” Clarke said. “I figured out that I was really over-studying. There’s only so much time I can spend studying before I plateau and can no longer take in new information. And I just needed to have more time for me, away from med school, for my mental health.”

 

“That’s good,” Lexa said. “I’m glad you’ve started to figure that out. And now that I’ve finished the academy, I don’t have such long stressful hours. I mean, it’s still a crazy schedule, but nothing we can’t work around. I want to make this work. I need it to.”

 

Clarke nodded vigorously. “Me, too. And we’ll talk. Really talk. Tomorrow, if you can?”

 

Lexa nodded. “I don’t work again until Sunday evening.”

 

“Good,” Clarke replied. “So we’ll talk tomorrow.”

 

“And now?”

 

“Now, we sit here and look at the stars like tradition dictates.”

 

Lexa broke into a cheeky grin. “Actually, tradition dictates that we look at the stars for about ten minutes before we start making out and doing probably illegal things out in the open.”

 

Clarke chuckled and returned her grin. “Who are we to break tradition?”

 

The following morning, Lexa woke up in _their_ bed and smiled broadly.

 

She was home.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact of the Day: I keep saying that I get inspired by real-life events, and the same is true about this chapter. My wife and I broke up for five months after about three years of dating because we weren't used to ever fighting, so when things got super stressful for both of us at the same time, we imploded. :( BUT, we obviously got back together and learned how to better communicate and we are stronger than ever because of it, just as Clarke and Lexa will be in this !verse :)


	4. ...But Making Up is Easy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of the previous chapter. This is what happens after Clarke and Lexa reunite at *their place*. 
> 
>  
> 
>  **Chapter Rating** : Explicit 
> 
> **Chapter Tags** : fluff, smut, mushy gay puddles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was always planning this continuation of the last scene of chapter 3, but I hadn't planned on posting it right away. Then I started writing it and couldn't stop, and several of you requested it. So, here we go. I hope it's what you were hoping for. :)
> 
> Special shoutout to AD for helping me out with police procedures :) I hope this chapter makes the uniform thing better :)

They didn’t even manage to make it a full minute of looking at the stars before they began making out. Lexa was the first to break, but Clarke had been two seconds from doing the same. Lexa turned to Clarke and, without preamble, crashed their lips together in a heated kiss. Clarke immediately responded, turning more fully into Lexa and cupping her cheeks in her hands to hold her in place.

 

They kissed thoroughly, exploring with tongues as they reacquainted themselves with one another. Sure, they'd kissed during the break up sex, but there'd always been something missing. The love had still been there, though they'd both misinterpreted the other’s intentions, but the distance between them when they weren't participating in their weekly game of sextraveganza had trickled into their… whatever it was.

 

But now? Now they _really_ kissed. They kissed like it was their last night on Earth.

 

Clarke pulled at the hair tie holding Lexa's French braid in place and worked at freeing her hair from the tightly woven plait. She needed to thread her fingers in that luscious mane that she loved so much, the long dark strands like silk between her fingers. When she finally achieved her goal, she pressed Lexa back more fully on the chair and moved to straddle her again, only this time it _was_ highly sexual.

 

And that made Lexa put a stop to their current actions. She carefully pressed against Clarke's shoulders. “Wait, wait, Clarke we can't here.”

 

Clarke whimpered in protest as their lips parted and she pouted. “Why not? We did last year.” She grinned, remembering the added thrill of the danger of getting caught.

 

Lexa chuckled and tried to sit up a bit. “One, we were in your car, not out in the open.”

 

“Let's go there, then,” Clarke said. She moved to get up, but Lexa stopped her again.

 

“And two, I kind of broke a huge rule,” Lexa said, looking sheepish. “I was in such a hurry to leave work because I was going to go to our apartment to talk to you anyway that I kind of left without changing into my street clothes.”

 

Clarke actually purred. “I see that,” she said, hands running down the front of Lexa's uniform shirt. “And I appreciate it so much.” Her hands brushed across the bulge in her pants.

 

Lexa cursed and struggled to remember what her point was. Oh. Right. Uniform. Rules. “Clarke, I'm not supposed to wear it off duty. I could get in big trouble. Probably fired. The last thing I need is to be charged with public indecency on top of breaking protocol.”

 

Clarke suppressed a grin. Barely. (Not really.) “You, rule follower extraordinaire, broke protocol?” She tisked playfully. “That’s kinda hot.”

 

Lexa rolled her eyes. “As fun as it is having you mock me, can we please just move this somewhere more private because I really want to do dirty, dirty things to you and here is not the place.”

 

Clarke kissed her once more and finally stood. “You better not be tired because we aren't stopping until the sun comes up.” She pulled Lexa up and they practically ran to the parking area, hands tightly clasped. “Oh, fuck my life,” Clarke groaned as they approached.

 

“What?” Lexa asked, worried that something was wrong.

 

“Three things,” Clarke said, holding up three fingers. “One, holy _fuck_ you got a truck and it's completely badass and hot. Two, we both drove here so we have to take separate vehicles and I don't want to be away from you for even a second. And three, where the hell are we going because I can't wait the four hour drive home.”

 

Lexa kissed her. “I don't care where we go. Vegas is only forty minutes away. Or there's a Holiday Inn ten minutes south. We could book the freaking penthouse suite at the Bellagio or a room at the Holiday Inn, I really don't care as long as it's clean.”

 

“Holiday Inn,” Clarke said. She brushed her hand over Lexa's erection once again as she grinned. “Can't wait that long. It's been way too long.”

 

“It's only been a week,” Lexa said, then mentally smacked herself. Duh. A week _was_ way too long.

 

“That was break up sex,” Clarke clarified. “I want relationship sex. And we're wasting time.”

 

“Right. Holiday Inn. I'll meet you there.”

 

They kissed one last time before getting in their respective cars--Lexa in her black Dodge RAM 1500 and Clarke in her midnight blue Toyota RAV4--and drove towards the hotel. There, Clarke had to go in to get a room because Lexa was still aroused and it was painfully obvious. Clarke made a mental note to tease her about that later on.

 

The building was a newer construction so the room was fairly nice for a Holiday Inn. Not that they really paid any attention. As soon as the door closed, Lexa had Clarke pressed against it as they kissed again, tongues immediately seeking one another.

 

Clarke loved Lexa in her uniform, but she loved her out of it more. So she began slipping the buttons out of their holes, one by one, wanting to savor this moment. Lexa was on the same page and slowed their kiss down. They'd done the frantic fucking over the past several weeks. This was different. This was reconciliation. Reconnecting.

 

Recovering.

 

This was them finally able to fully express their emotions after an agonizing five months.

 

Lexa broke the kiss and stared into Clarke's ridiculously blue eyes. Clarke returned the stare, gazing into forest green eyes.

 

“I love you,” Clarke whispered. “I love you and I never want to be apart like that again. It felt like I was dying.”

 

Lexa nodded once. “Me, too,” she said. “I should be worried at how much I couldn't function without you, but I don't care. I love you more that I ever thought possible. And I won't let us become _that_ again. I promise.”

 

Clarke kissed her as tears ran down her cheeks. “I promise that, too,” she said against her lips.

 

Lexa brought her hands up to cup Clarke's cheeks, her thumbs wiping away the tears as she felt her own eyes water. “ _God_ , I'm so mad at myself,” she growled out, sniffling.

 

Clarke shook her head. “Stop,” she stressed. “You can't blame yourself. We both messed up. But we got through it and we're stronger than ever. Okay?”

 

Lexa nodded. She didn't say anything more, just kissed Clarke once again as she tugged at the hem of her oversized hoodie. It was then that she realized it was one of hers that she'd been looking for and figured has just gotten lost in her bags somewhere. She tugged it off over Clarke's head and tossed it aside. She'd tease her later. Right now, she was too focused on getting her naked and showing her how much she'd missed her.

 

Clarke was focused on the same thing and encouraged Lexa to move back towards the bed. When the backs of her legs hit the mattress, Lexa sank back onto it, pulling Clarke with her. Clarke straddled her thighs, a knee on either side of her hips on the plush hotel bedding. They never broke their kiss.

 

Lexa slid her hands beneath Clarke's long sleeved black t-shirt and over the bare skin of her back until she reached the band of her bra. She felt for the clasp and grunted in annoyance when she didn't find one.

 

“Front clasp,” Clarke breathed against her lips.

 

Lexa gave up her mission for now, not wanting to allow their chests to separate to undo her bra. Later. She'd do that later. In the meantime, she slid her hands down to slip beneath her jeans and underwear to grip her ass. Clarke canted forward at the touch, effectively grinding her center against Lexa's rock hard erection.

 

“Fuck,” Lexa gasped out, breaking the kiss to throw her head back as she groaned. “Shorts,” she muttered.

 

Clarke knew exactly what that meant. Her compression shorts were getting uncomfortable to the point of pain, and not the good kind. Clarke immediately shifted to one side and worked at the belt and fastenings of Lexa's pants, grappling with the button and zipper before quickly pushing the fabric down. Lexa's lifted her hips to aid in the process and soon the stiff material was shoved down. Clarke met resistance when she tried to push them fully off and laughed when she realized why. Lexa's boots were still in place on her feet. Lexa grinned in an ‘oh yeah’ manner and Clarke dropped to her knees on the floor to quickly do away with them and her socks before finally pulling Lexa's powerful legs free of the pesky pants. She balled the material up and tossed it aside, uncaring where they ended up.

 

Lexa was already hooking her thumbs into the sides of her navy blue compression shorts and pushing them down even as Clarke reached up to help. Their eyes locked as the shorts were discarded in the same fashion as the pants and Clarke felt her heart skip a beat as the looked up the length of Lexa's body and met those eyes that still fascinated her to this day.

 

Then her gaze moved down and she cursed aloud at the sight of Lexa leaning back on the bed, her uniform shirt open to reveal a tight white tank top underneath that did nothing to conceal her abdominal muscles. The hem of the shirt stopped just as her V line began, drawing Clarke's eyes downward to her rock hard cock, already leaking precum from the tip. Clarke licked her lips in anticipation as she rose up on her knees, slowly smoothing her hands from Lexa's knees up her well-muscled thighs in a torturous caress.

 

Lexa whimpered as she felt Clarke's hands avoid her erection, touching everywhere around it, but never letting her fingers even brush against it. “Clarke, please,” she said through gritted teeth, wondering if it would be possible for her to cum without Clarke even touching her. Her dick twitched at the thought, drawing a grin and a lip bite from Clarke.

 

Jesus fucking Christ.

 

Clarke nearly chuckled aloud at Lexa's look of desire tinged with desperation. She hadn't really meant to tease her, but it was so fun making her wait. It heightened the arousal for both of them. She knew she was in for some payback later on, but it was worth it to watch Lexa gasp and groan in equal parts frustration and delight. Especially when Clarke quickly tugged off her own shirt, then slid her hands up Lexa's torso. The movement resulted in the underside of Lexa's cock to be pressed firmly against Clarke's ample cleavage.

 

“Fuck,” Lexa hissed, pressing her hips upwards in attempt to slide fully between those incredible breasts. But the bra still holding Clarke's breasts wouldn't allow for it, and she groaned in displeasure.

 

Clarke could only chuckle again at her frustrated growl. She knew Lexa loved her breasts, loved sliding herself between them as Clarke would stick her tongue out to lick across the head of her dick with each forward motion. But now was not the time. Later, she thought to herself. Later she'd let Lexa fuck her tits to wild abandon until she came across them. But this time, Clarke need her inside of her, thrusting deep.

 

She pulled back, causing Lexa to whimper in protest, but it turned into a gasp when Clarke finally-- _finally_ \--touched her, wrapping a hand around the base of her cock and gripping tightly, but not too tight. Perfect. Clarke knew exactly how to touch her.

 

When Clarke's mouth closed over the head and her multitalented tongue swirled across the tip, Lexa cried out. Her fingers tunneled through Clarke's hair, holding it back as she worked that magic tongue. She didn't pull at the blonde locks, though Clarke sometimes enjoyed when she did. But now was not the time. Maybe later.

 

“Clarke,” Lexa gasped out as the blonde's tongue licked at the sensitive slit, gathering the fluid that was already leaking out. “Clarke, _fuck_ , Clarke I won't last much longer.”

 

Clarke didn't let up, and normally Lexa would just let her continue, but she needed more in this moment. “Clarke, stop,” she ground out even as she felt the first tinglings of orgasm approaching.

 

Clarke immediately pulled back, looking confused.

 

Lexa grinned down at her reassuringly and moved to sit up. “Together the first time,” she explained. “I want to be inside you when we cum together.”

 

Clarke nodded and stood abruptly. She began undoing the fastenings of her own jeans even as Lexa reached to undo the front clasp of her bra. Soon, Clarke was wearing only her panties and moving to straddle Lexa once again. “As much as I appreciate this,” she said, fingering the material of Lexa's shirt. “It needs to come off. Now.” She pushed at the dark blue fabric, sliding it down Lexa's arms. Lexa aided in the process, quickly undoing the buttons on the cuff before pulling her arms free and tossing it aside. Clarke's hands were already reaching for the hem of her tank top and it was quickly discarded, along with her black sports bra that she tended to favor over traditional bras. Clarke could count on one hand the number of times she'd seen Lexa in a bra that wasn't intended for athletic purposes. But she didn't mind. The sight of her girlfriend in a simple black spandex sports bra made her knees weak and her panties damp.

 

Now completely naked, Lexa pulled them further up the bed and pressed Clarke onto her back beneath her.

 

“Ow, what the fuck?” Clarke said in confusion as she reached beneath her. She laughed when she saw that she'd laid back on the hotel pamphlet with ‘Things to Do’ that had been left on the bed by housekeeping. She tossed it aside. She had better things to do than any suggestions they could make. Forgetting about the pamphlet, Clarke urged Lexa on top of her, sighing in pleasure as their fronts aligned and she could feel those incredible abs pressed against her own undefined but still relatively flat abdomen.

 

Lexa echoed her sigh and connected their lips as she settled between Clarke's thighs. But the sigh turned into a groan of protest when she remembered that Clarke was still wearing panties, the cotton rough against her sensitive dick. She broke the kiss and sat up, tugging the sides of the underwear down. Clarke lifted her legs to allow them to be slid off in a move that would be comical if they weren't so focused on just getting her naked.

 

Once the offending garment was cast aside, Lexa repositioned herself between Clarke's thighs, letting out a sound of approval when the underside of her throbbing cock lined up with the drenched cavern of Clarke's center. Clarke also gasped, already moving her hips in attempt to create friction against her clit. She was so wet that finding that friction proved difficult and she whimpered in protest.

 

Lexa laughed and leaned back down to kiss Clarke again. They moved completely in sync with one another, both just _knowing_ what the other wanted--needed. Clarke spread her legs as far as she could as lexa reached down to position herself at Clarke's entrance, her head just barely nudging the opening.

 

This time, no one asked about the necessity of a condom. They didn't need to. They just _knew_ it wasn't needed. They trusted again.

 

As Lexa pressed forward, they broke their kiss and locked eyes, staring deeply as Lexa slid home. _Home_. Clarke was her home.

 

Fully buried inside her, Lexa paused and felt tears threaten as she was once more encased inside the woman she loved. The woman who loved her. She needed to savor this moment. Never forget it. The tears fell without her permission. Clarke wiped them away with her fingertips, completely understanding where they were coming from. Though they'd had plenty of sex in the last several months, it hadn’t been like this. This was raw. Emotional.

 

This was pure, unadulterated love.

 

Lexa buried her damp face in Clarke’s neck as Clarke wrapped her legs around Lexa’s waist and held her like that, unmoving, as they just _enjoyed_ the closeness. The intimacy. The same intimacy that had been absent during their time apart and left them both aching for more, even after a mind-blowing series of orgasms.

 

Clarke was the first to urge Lexa to move, suddenly needing to feel _more_. Lexa immediately complied and attached her lips to Clarke’s neck as she began a slow, steady rhythm of thrusts. While they were both desperate for this, neither wanted to rush it.

 

Savor.

 

That’s the only way to describe what they both wanted. To savor the moment. Their first time together nearly six years ago had been quick and full of teenage fumbling. Not that that made it any less special or memorable. But now they had the chance to start again, whole once more.

 

Clarke threaded the fingers of one hand through Lexa’s hair and gently tugged to pull her up and into a kiss while her other hand slid down Lexa’s solid arm to lace their fingers together, palms pressed against one another. Lexa moved their entwined hands onto the pillow above Clarke and held it there firmly as her thrusts began to get quicker, harder.

 

Clarke began to make those sexy little mewling sounds in the back of her throat that she made when she was getting close and her mouth was otherwise occupied. But she had no desire to stop kissing Lexa in that moment. Instead, her tightened her fingers in her hair and held her in place, not that Lexa was planning on going anywhere anytime soon as she nipped at Clarke’s bottom lip, pulling it gently in her teeth then allowing her tongue to soothe the flesh. Clarke bucked her hips in response, her thighs tightening at Lexa’s waist and her heels digging into her ass.

 

Jesus, even Lexa’s _ass_ was rock hard these days, Clarke thought to herself before all coherent thought was stripped away when Lexa squeezed her hand and thrust as deep as she could before bottoming out and pulling back to repeat the motion. Each time, Clarke could feel Lexa’s balls slap against her ass and her pelvic bone rub against her clit. She pressed her own hips up with each frantic inward thrust.

 

Lexa’s breathing became labored and uneven, a sure sign to Clarke that she was quickly approaching her orgasm. Clarke was right there with her, ready to fall. “Cum with me,” Clarke said against Lexa’s lips. “I love you.”

 

Lexa felt her peak rising with every thrust and Clarke’s declaration was the thing that pushed her over. “Oh, fuck, Clarke, I love you, too, baby,” she gasped out as she felt the familiar tightness in her abdomen as the heat spread out. “Cum with me,” she said, repeating Clarke’s words.

 

Clarke nodded. “I’m there,” she gasped. “I’m coming. _Fuck_.”

 

Lexa felt Clarke’s inner walls clamping down tightly and begin to spasm just as she spilled into Clarke on a final, powerful thrust, filling her. They let out twin cries of pleasure, their hands still locked tightly together above Clarke’s head on the pillow, refusing to let go of one another even as they squeezed so tightly their hands would be sore the following day. They didn’t care.

 

“Don’t leave me,” Clarke said as they slumped together on the bed, Lexa mostly on top of her. “Stay inside me.”

 

“Always,” Lexa murmured, breathing rapid and her heart racing.

 

Clarke’s legs felt like Jell-o around Lexa’s waist, but she refused to let go, even when she could feel Lexa begin to soften inside her and the combined evidence of their release begin to leak out of her, trickling down. She ignored it, uncaring in that moment that the bedding beneath them was hotel bedding and refusing to consider what else had gotten on the comforter from past guests.

 

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Lexa said a few moments later, face still buried in Clarke’s neck and still slightly out of breath. “But that was so much better than the last couple months.”

 

Clarke let out a breathy laugh, stomach muscles quivering against Lexa’s. “Agreed.” She squeezed her hand still linked with hers again before letting go and urging Lexa to roll onto her back. The movement caused Lexa to withdraw from her, but Clarke was soon draping herself against Lexa’s side, nuzzling close. God, she’d missed this. The post-coital cuddling. The intimacy that came along with the act, their sweaty skin sticking together in a way that, were it anyone but Lexa, would kind of gross Clarke out. But because it was Lexa, _her Lexa_ , it only comforted her. She hummed in content, tracing patterns on her girlfriend’s ribs, fingers moving across the tattoo that lined her side.

 

_I choose to fight._

 

It still meant so much to Lexa, to both of them, and meant even more so in this moment. They chose to fight the crazy schedules and stressful situations to be together.

 

“Let’s go home.”  

 

Clarke glanced up at Lexa, brow knit. “Now?” she asked. It was late--nearly eleven at night--and driving home now would mean they wouldn’t get there until three in the morning, at the very earliest.

 

But Lexa nodded. “I want to go home,” she said. “With you. I want to wake up in _our_ bed in the morning with you next to me. I need our bed.”

 

Clarke suddenly understood and shared her desire. She nodded. “Okay,” she said, sitting up. She wasn’t looking forward to the drive alone in her own car as Lexa drove her truck, but she needed Lexa to reclaim her rightful spot beside her in the bed that had been so lonely for way too long.

 

So they checked out (Clarke made Lexa do the checking out, not wanting to face the dude at the front desk a mere two hours after checking in), got reluctantly into their respective vehicles, and drove home.

 

Their home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact of the day: I am way too used to the desert heat. I just told my wife that "It's pretty cool here today" and it's freaking 92 degrees. It's going to take some getting used to this Sacramento weather.


	5. Emery Rae

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's 2032 and Clarke is feeling... weird. She hadn't felt this way since she'd been pregnant with their first child. But there's no way she could be pregnant again. Is there?
> 
>  
> 
>  **Chapter Rating** : T
> 
>  **Chapter Tags** : domestic fluff, pregnancy, pregnant Clarke, cinnamon roll Raven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here. Have some fluffy goodness. :)

Little Camilla had just turned three when Clarke got a sneaking suspicion that something wasn’t quite right. Or, rather, that something was very unexpectedly right.

Her first clue came in the operating room where she was elbow deep in an impacted bowel. She'd developed an iron stomach during medical school and her residency. She’d observed and performed thousands of similar surgeries. So the sights, sounds, and smells of an impacted bowel should not cause her to become nauseated.

And yet she had to suddenly demand that her favorite resident take over as she herself had to take a step back and tell a nurse to pull off her mask so she could puke in a trash can. Clue number one.

The second clue was her increased libido in the last few weeks. It wasn’t unusual for her to want sex from her wife fairly frequently, but the recent urge to do it every single day, morning, noon, and night, was a bit out of the ordinary. Clue number two.

She also had had a period in nearly six weeks, but that wasn’t unusual for her after her pregnancy with Cam. Her body hadn't quite returned to her pre-pregnancy state, but she didn’t really mind the irregular periods since it often meant going upwards of two months without cramps and bleeding from her vagina. So, that wasn’t really a clue for her.

The actual final clue was her sudden and intense aversion to all things chocolate. She fucking loved chocolate. Milk chocolate, dark chocolate, white chocolate (she knew white chocolate want’s technically chocolate, but still, it was delicious regardless of its lack of cocoa.) But the smell of it all made her gag. Even Reese’s peanut butter cups made her want to vomit. Clue number three.

A trip to her colleague and good friend, fertility doctor Dr. Zara Osmond, had confirmed it. She was pregnant. Due mid-September.

Holy shit.

It was a shock to Clarke to say the least. Cam had been conceived via in vitro because of Lexa's low sperm count. They'd been able to use Lexa's sperm and Clarke's egg, but it had taken several tries on Zara’s exam table. (It had been weird, at first, to have her friend and colleague poking around her hooha during all the tests and procedures, but she’d gotten over it quickly. Zara was at the top of the field and Clarke didn’t trust anyone else.) They’d tried a total of five times before conceiving Cam. And now she was pregnant without even trying.

She wasn't afraid to tell Lexa. She knew she'd think it a miracle, just like she did. But she'd also be shocked, just like Clarke was. They’d already began discussing another round of in vitro for baby number two, but hadn’t approached Zara quite yet. But Clarke hadn't started back on any form of birth control after having Cam since Zara had said the chances of them conceiving naturally were exponentially low.

But not impossible, apparently.

“Congratulations, you are the one in fifty thousand that I told you about,” Zara proclaimed when she broke the news to Clarke.

Clarke’s eyes widened as she snatched the paper with her blood test results from Zara’s hand and read over it. She’d been sure she was imagining it all, that she was just getting sick or something and the results would be negative. Sure enough, her hCG levels were drastically elevated, indicating pregnancy.

Clarke looked up at her grinning friend. “How?”

Zara shrugged. “The body is a weird thing sometimes,” she said, pushing her tortoiseshell glasses up on her nose. “I grabbed you these from the pharmacy,” she continued, handing Clarke a bottle of prenatal vitamins. “And you should set up an appointment with your OB/GYN soon. I think you’re around five weeks or so.”

Clarke nodded. “I’m really pregnant.”

Zara returned her grin. “Yep,” she said. “Tell Cam she’s gonna be a big sister around September.”

Clarke told Lexa the day she confirmed her suspicion. She'd gotten a text from Lexa earlier in the day stating that she and her partner had wrapped the monster case they’d been working tirelessly on and they were going to celebrate at their favored bar, but that she'd be home in time to read Cam her bedtime story. Clarke smiled, knowing that Lexa and the other detectives had been agonizing and working their asses off to catch that asshole for weeks. She replied with a congratulations and told her to have fun. Lexa didn't go out with her colleagues often, usually just to celebrate a big win like that, so Clarke never minded.

True to her word, as she always was, Lexa was home by seven and they had Cam tucked into her ‘big girl bed’ by her eight o’clock bedtime. Clarke was grateful that Cam didn’t put up a fuss about bedtime as she often did. Steph, her nanny, must have taken her to the park that day, which always tired the young girl out.

Once alone, Lexa took Clarke’s hand and led her to their bedroom. As soon as the door closed behind them, Lexa pressed her back against the wall by the door and attacked her lips. Clarke hummed her appreciation and wrapped her arms around her wife’s neck. Lexa was always especially horny after solving a big case, and Clarke was always happy to indulge her.

“I want to celebrate,” Lexa said, she murmured, fingers already working to pull off Clarke’s rose-colored silk blouse.

“Yes, Detective,” Clarke replied, raising her arms and letting Lexa rid her of the shirt. Then her hands were working the buttons on Lexa’s shirt, becoming frustrated when her fingers refused to cooperate. She could throw a stitch to stop a bleeder in two seconds flat every time without fail, but unbuttoning a fucking shirt when Lexa was kissing her like that? Even after nearly fifteen years of kissing this woman, she still managed to make her melt into a freaking puddle of goo.

As Lexa pressed her back onto their bed, both having lost shirts and bras, Clarke threaded her fingers through that long, dark, curly hair that she loved so much, glad Lexa had already freed it from her normal French braid that she wore when she worked. Lexa leaned down to kiss her, but Clarke stopped her. “We have more to celebrate than your case,” she said, unable to hide her grin.

Lexa looked down at her wife, brow raised in question. “Oh yeah? What?”

Clarke reached down to grab one of Lexa’s hands in her own and brought it up to kiss her palm. “Remember how I told you that I puked in the O.R. the other day and figured the pasta we’d had the night before was bad or something?”

“Yeah,” Lexa said, wondering why Clarke was bringing up vomit when they were half naked in bed.

“But you were completely fine,” Clarke continued. “Then I tried to eat a Reese’s today and wanted to throw up again.”

“Do you have a weird new fetish?” Lexa asked. “Because I gotta say, babe, I’m down for a lot of kinky shit in the bedroom, but I draw the line at vomit.”

Clarke snorted. “Oh my god, no,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Think about it. When was the last time I couldn’t eat chocolate because the mere smell of it made me gag?”

Lexa narrowed her eyes as she thought. “I don’t know, when you were pregnant with Cam?”

Clarke gave her a pointed look and didn’t say anything. She waited for Lexa to catch on.

It didn’t take long. “No fucking way,” Lexa said seconds later, eyes comically wide. “You’re not…”

“I am,” Clarke said.

“But my count,” Lexa said, incredulous.

Clarke gave a small shrug. “Zara did say improbable, but not impossible. One of your little swimmers must have been really determined because Zara confirmed it this afternoon. I’m pregnant.”

Lexa stared in shock, but a wide smile was already forming on her face. “You’re pregnant,” she repeated. “Holy fuck.”

“That’s what I said.”

Lexa scooted down on the bed until her head was level with Clarke’s belly. She brought a hand up to lay protectively over her womb as she kissed just below her belly button. “We’re having another baby,” she said, voice full awe. She pressed another kiss to her belly, then another, and another.

“We’re having another baby,” Clarke echoed, her heartstrings being tugged by each of Lexa’s protective, tender kisses.

Lexa shifted back up on the bed, bringing their chests flush. “I love you, Clarke. So fucking much.”

Clarke pressed their lips together, arms hooking around her neck. “I love you, too,” she said against her lips. “And you also remember my sex drive with Cam, so I need you to fuck me right now.”

Lexa groaned and laughed against Clarke’s lips. “Yes, ma’am,” she said and resumed kissing Clarke with raw passion as she settled her hips between Clarke’s thighs. Clarke sighed in pleasure and pressed her hips upwards so that her already drenched center was pressed against Lexa’s erection through the material of their pants and underwear.

They celebrated well into the night, uncaring that they were both due at work early the next day.

Clarke managed to get an appointment with her OB/GYN, Dr. Lena Boyd, two weeks later, knowing anything sooner would likely be too soon to hear a heartbeat. Lexa was able to finagle out of work for a few hours to accompany her without telling anyone why. They didn’t want to tell anyone until they were sure everything was okay. Even then, only family and close friends would know until Clarke was in her second trimester.

Lena’s office was located in the same UCSF facility that Clarke worked at (UCSF Medical Center at Mount Zion), which was convenient for her. She was able to just take a long lunch for the appointment.

Lexa was already in the waiting area when she arrived five minutes before the scheduled time. She grinned and made her way over towards her wife, who still hadn't noticed her as she typed on her phone, brow serious. She slipped into the seat beside her and chuckled when Lexa jumped.

“Jesus, Clarke,” Lexa gasped, dropping her phone.

“Well hello to you, too,” Clarke replied.

Lexa smiled and kissed her softly in greeting. “Sorry,” she said. “Samuels is driving me up the wall again.” She bent down and picked up her phone where it landed on the carpet.

Clarke gave her an empathetic look. She liked all of Lexa's colleagues except for Samuels. Devin Samuels was an arrogant son of a bitch on a good day. “What's he doing now?”

Lexa shrugged. “Chewing my ass out for leaving early,” she said with a sigh. “Like he's my superior or something. Whatever. He's just mad because I have a beautiful wife to go home to every night and he's stuck fucking his own hand.” She received a dirty look from a woman nearby. She cringed. “Sorry, ma’am,” she said, cheeks turning red. Then, in a lower voice so that only Clarke could hear her, she continued. “Seriously, I don't understand what his problem is.”

Clarke sighed and laid her head on Lexa's shoulder. “Probably a homophobic asshole or something,” she said. “I never liked him.”

“We live in San Francisco,” Lexa said dryly. “He picked the wrong city for that.”

Clarke nodded. “True, but they still exist here. Unfortunately, nowhere is perfect.”

Before Lexa could respond, the door leading to the exam rooms opened and a nurse stood in the doorway. “Clarke Griffin-Woods?”

They both stood and followed the nurse to an exam room. “Which one of you is Clarke?” she asked with a kind smile.

“That would be me,” Clarke replied.

“Okay, you know the drill. Step on the scale, please.”

Clarke did and the nurse weighed her, then told her to sit on the exam table so she could get her vitals. As the blood pressure cuff tightened on her arm, the nurse smiled at Lexa. “Partner or friend?” she asked.

This was why Lexa loved San Francisco. While not everyone was like this, a lot of people didn't assume that they were just friends. “Wife,” she replied. “Lexa Woods.”

The nurse smiled in greeting as she took note of Clarke's blood pressure. “One-frothy over ninety,” she said. “Slightly high, but not concerningly so just yet. Dr. Boyd will probably want to monitor it closely, though. Normal is--”

Clarke cut her off. “I'm a surgeon, so I know all this,” she said with a smile.

The nurse chuckled. “Excellent. So you'll know how to monitor it yourself.”

Clarke nodded.

“Everything else looks good,” the nurse said. “Go ahead and get comfortable and the doctor will be with you shortly.”

Clarke laid back on the exam table, glad she was just there for an ultrasound and a general check up, so she could keep her scrubs on. Lexa moved to stand next to her, grabbing her hand and kissing the palm.

Lena didn't keep them waiting long and entered the room after only a few minutes. “I hear we have a surprise baby waiting for us,” she said with a wide smile.

Clarke laughed. “That we do,” she said, glad Lena already knew about Lexa so that she didn't have any misconceptions.

“But a happy surprise,” Lexa jumped in.

Lena nodded in understanding as she looked over Clarke's chart. “Good,” she said. “Everything looks to be in order. Let's see if we can find that heartbeat. It may still be too soon, but let's see what we can find.”

Clarke pulled up her scrub top and pushed the bottoms down enough to be out of the way as Lena prepared for the ultrasound. Clarke gasped at the cold gel on her abdomen, earning a look of apology from Lena before she pressed the wand more firmly to her skin and focused on the screen. A moment later, a smile formed on Lena’s face and she pointed at the screen. “There we are,” she said.

On the screen was a peanut shaped blob. “That's our baby,” Lexa murmured into her ear, kissing her temple.

“Let's see if I can get that heartbeat,” Lena said as she worked and moments later, the steady sound of a heartbeat was filtering through the otherwise silent room.

Clarke squeezed Lexa's hand, fighting back the tears. She'd been such a weepy mess with Cam and it seemed like it would be no different this time around.

“Ninety-two beats per minute,” Lena said. “Perfectly healthy.” She pressed a few buttons and the image froze on the screen. “I take it you want a picture?”

“Definitely,” Clarke said. “How far am I?”

“About seven weeks,” Lena said. “I'm putting your due date as September 15th.”

When the appointment concluded, they walked out of the office with an ultrasound picture and a series of appointment dates. They could officially start telling people.

The first person they told was Abby. Clarke got her to FaceTime that evening and was holding the ultrasound picture up to the camera on her MacBook when her mother answered the call. At first, Abby looked confused, but then she realized what she was looking at.

“You're pregnant?!” she cried out, an excited smile forming on her face.

Clarke pulled the image back and nodded. “Seven weeks,” she confirmed, smiling just as wide.

“Oh my god!” Abby said, clapping her hands. “That's wonderful! I didn't even realize that you were trying again.”

Clarke shook her head. “We weren't,” she said. “It's completely unexpected, but we couldn't be happier.”

“Oh, wow,” Abby said. She, of course, knew how unlikely it was that they'd conceive the old fashioned way. “That is a miracle, then. Seven weeks, you said?”

“Due in September,” Lexa said as she walked up behind Clarke and hugged her from behind.

“Hi, Lexa,” Abby greeted, still grinning. The two had grown close over the last fifteen years, and sometimes Clarke thought her mother liked Lexa more than she did her. But she was happy her mother and wife got along so well. “Ready to endure seven more months of a pregnant Clarke?”

“You know it,” Lexa replied, kissing Clarke's jaw. “We haven't told my parents yet, so please don't say anything to my mom until we can.”

Abby nodded. “Of course,” she said. “But don't wait too long. I need to talk about my grandbabies with your mom.”

Lexa chuckled. “We will. We're going to try and FaceTime after this, but I'm not sure if my dad is home.” Gustus had been working a lot of evening shifts recently.

“Oh, I have to go and call Marcus,” Abby said, mentioning her now husband. “He's still at school. I told you he was coaching softball this year, right?”

Clarke nodded. “You did,” she said. “Go call him. We're gonna try Lexa's parents. We aren't telling everyone yet, so no posting on social media or anything.”

Abby chuckled. “I remember the drill, Clarke,” she said. “And I am so happy for you both. Oh, Cam is going to be such an incredible big sister!”

They said their goodbyes and checked to see if Lexa's parents could FaceTime. By some stroke of luck, Gustus was apparently back on a day shift and at home.

Iris put a hand on her mouth and screamed in joy when she saw the ultrasound and Gustus smiled that jolly smile and Clarke even thought she saw a tear in his eye. They were ecstatic to say the least.

Next to know was Marie, who still lived in LA, but came to visit often. In fact, she'd already been planning a visit a few days after the ultrasound, so they waited until she showed up to tell her. They used Cam to do so, buying her a shirt they said “Big sister” in big, bold letters. She was wearing it when Marie went to hug her.

“What is this?!” she yelled, excitement already lacing her voice. She rounded on Clarke and looked down at her still flat stomach. “I knew something was up!” She pulled all three of them into a massive hug and cried.

Raven, Anya, and Octavia were the next to know. Clarke started a group FaceTime call (Apple had finally gotten their shit together a few years back with iOS 19 and FaceTime now allowed you to have a group FaceTime call).

“What have important news to share,” Lexa said once everyone was in the call, Raven and Anya in one window and Octavia in another.

“You're pregnant with quadruplets!” Raven joked.

“That joke is old, Rae,” Octavia said dryly.

Clarke laughed. “Sorry, Rae, no quadruplets.” She reached for the ultrasound photo. “You have to settle for one baby.”

“No fucking way!” Raven cried out, eyes wide. “You really are knocked up again?”

Lexa let out a laugh at her friend’s antics. “Yes, she's pregnant. We're having another baby.”

Octavia squealed in absolute delight and literally bounced up and down in her chair. Raven did a happy dance that consisted of first pumps and something that looked like the Macarena. Anya whooped in surprised joy as she congratulated them and immediately asked for details.

They made the official announcement to everyone else a few weeks after that. Lexa went into work the morning after the social media post to calls of congratulations and cheers from most of her colleagues. Except for that Samuels asshole. Jerk.

The pregnancy was decidedly easier than Clarke's first. With Cam, she'd had intense morning sickness at all times of the day for a good three months. Everything had made her nauseated, even freaking water. While she did get bouts of nausea with baby number two, it wasn't nearly as often or as intense as her first pregnancy. She also didn't bloat as much. And this baby wasn't pressed quite so hard against her bladder. Thank god.

At her sixteen week ultrasound, they found out the biological sex of their baby. They were having another girl. They immediately began considering names.

Clarke was sad when she realized that she wouldn't be able to make it to Aden’s wedding in mid-August. With her due date only a month away, it was way too risky for her to fly anywhere, even the short flight to Seattle. Lexa had said she'd stay behind with her, but Clarke wouldn't let her. “You have to go to your brother’s wedding, Lex,” she said. “You're in the wedding! And Cam is too excited to be the flower girl. You can't disappoint her.” Lexa hadn't wanted to leave, but Clarke insisted. It was only after Raven agreed to drive up for a visit and stay with Clarke that she agreed. It meant that Anya was going to the wedding alone, but they all agreed, even Aden, that it would be best for Clarke to have someone with her, and Marie was visiting her granddaughter in Tallahassee.

So that's how Clarke found herself on August 20, her wife and daughter in Seattle while she was stuck in San Francisco with Raven. Not that she was complaining (well, she was a little because she did miss Lexa and Cam terribly). But she'd also missed her best friend immensely the past few months.

“God, you're huge,” was the first thing Raven said to her when Clarke opened the door to let her in.

“Gee, thanks,” Clarke said with a laugh as Raven hugged her tightly.

“You sure you still have a month left?” Raven teased, looking down at Clarke's rounded belly. “You look like you're gonna pop any moment now.”

Clarke laughed. “I'm already bigger than I ever was with Cam,” she admitted.

Clarke went to bed that night after having talked to Lexa and Cam via FaceTime feeling completely normal. But just past midnight, she woke to a strange feeling. She was wet. And not the sexy kind. The sheets and mattress beneath her were completely drenched.

“No, no, no,” Clarke said as she fumbled for the bedside light. When she turned it on and pulled back the covers, she cursed. “No, no, no,” she repeated. “Raven!” she yelled out, knowing it was a fruitless act. Raven slept like the freaking dead.

She carefully stood, grimacing at the feel of her sodden sleep shorts. Gravity allowed more fluid to leave her body. It felt like she was peeing but couldn't control it. Dammit. At least their floors were sealed wood and wouldn't get damaged from it. The same could not be said about the expensive mattress.

She carefully made her way towards the master bathroom and pulled off her soaked shorts and underwear. She knew from experience and her medical training that there wasn't any hurry. Her water had broken, but she'd yet to have a contraction. She had time.

So she took a shower. She had to get clean before doing anything else.

Then she called Lexa, hoping she would answer. Of course she did.

“What's wrong?” Lexa answered. Clarke didn't blame her. It was past one in the morning.

“I ruined the mattress,” Clarke said.

“What?” Lexa asked, confused and still half asleep.

“My water broke.”

“Shit.”

“Uh huh,” Clarke said. “But I haven't had any contractions.”

“Oh god, okay, I'm going to see about getting a flight out as soon as I can.”

“Let Cam stay,” Clarke said. “It'll be good for her to be with your mom and dad.”

“Good idea. Let me call them and get things figured out. Please don't have this baby without me.”

Clarke laughed. “I'll do my best,” she said. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Clarke's next move was to call her mother. Abby immediately jumped into her car and said she'd be there by noon.

She had her first contraction shortly after two in the morning and were coming on pretty regularly by four AM. Lexa was struggling to get a flight out because, shocker, there was a huge storm over the Pacific Northwest that was causing a lot of delays. She started to worry Lexa wouldn't make it in time when she realized her contractions were progressing much quicker than they had with Cam.

That's when she finally woke Raven.

“Whas happenin’?” Raven asked sleepily.

“My water broke,” Clarke said. “And my contractions are seven minutes apart.”

Raven shot in in bed, looking terrified. “It's go time?”

Clarke nodded. “Almost. Soon. Get dressed so we can be ready when it's time.”

“Lexa?”

Clarke sighed. “Having trouble getting a flight because of a storm. But she's trying.”

Raven jumped out of the bed and quickly got dressed. She noticed a distressed looking Clarke sitting on the edge of the bed and she paused in detangling her hair. “Hey, she'll make it,” she said, sitting beside her best friend and wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulders.

Clarke leaned into Raven, grateful for the support. “I hope so,” she whispered.

All too soon, it was time to head to the hospital. Clarke had called Lena when her contractions first started to inform her it was almost time, and she called her again to let her know they were headed to the hospital. Lena said she'd meet them there, and she was already waiting for them when Raven pulled up to the drop off zone, grateful for the complimentary parking service so she didn't have to leave her alone.

Clarke was dialing Lexa's number as soon as they got her checked in and put her in a room. It was nearing seven in the morning.

“I begged to be put on the first flight out,” Lexa said as soon as she answered. “I paid a ridiculous amount of money for the ticket, but I'm supposed to take off in twenty minutes. Everything keeps getting delayed, though. We haven't even boarded yet. I don't know if I'll make it.”

Clarke could hear the distress in her wife's voice and, even though she felt the same distress, she comforted her. “Hey, it'll be okay,” Clarke said. “It took Cam nearly thirty-two hours to arrive once my water broke.” She didn't mention that second births often progressed much quicker, and hers was already further along six hours in than she’d been at eighteen hours with Cam.

“But what if I don't make it on time?” Lexa said into her phone as she stood in the terminal, trying not to cry. She knew she should have stayed home.

“Baby, breathe,” Clarke reassured her. “I want you here, but if you aren't, it's not your fault and it's not the end of the world. I have Raven with me.”

Lexa sighed anxiously and pressed her head to the glass of the terminal wall. “I know,” she said. “But I'm still going to be sad if I miss the birth of my kid. I really want to be there for you. Both of you.”

“I know. And I want you here. But--oh!”

“Contraction?” Lexa asked, heart racing again.

“Uh huh,” Clarke groaned out. Lexa coaxed her through it with reminders to breathe. Honestly, the reminders were more for herself than Clarke.

Once the contraction subsided, Clarke let out a huff. “Fuck, I forgot how much that hurts.”

Lexa knit her brow. “When are you getting your epidural?” she asked.

“Just waiting for Nixon to get her ass in gear,” Clarke answered, knowing the anesthesiologist they'd paged was a friend from the hospital.

“Rude,” Lexa heard a voice say in the background. She immediately recognized it as the teasing voice of Dr. Natalie Nixon. “But I'll let that slide since you're having a baby.”

Clarke had to say goodbye then so she could get her coveted drugs and Lexa hung up, not feeling any less anxious as she waited to board. The flight was just over two hours, and then it was roughly a half hour drive. She didn't check any luggage; Anya had said she'd take care of all that later. She'd also taken Cam, who loved her Auntie Anya, so the young girl had been delighted to stay with her. Anya would arrange to get her back after the wedding.

The wedding. She felt bad for missing her brother’s wedding, but he understood, of course. He was excited at having a new niece to spoil and at the possibility of her being born the day he married his college sweetheart, Tris.

Lexa huffed as she looked at the time. The flight was supposed to be taking off in ten minutes, yet no one had even boarded. She glanced behind her at the information board and was dismayed, but not surprised, to see the words DELAYED next to the flight number. She let out a frustrated growl, mentally cursing her brother for just having to have his wedding in freaking Seattle. She ignored that he’d done so to allow their grandfather to attend. His health had been rapidly declining since their grandmother died several years back.

She sat in a vacant chair and jiggled her foot in an anxiety-driven motion.

“Excuse me,” a voice said from her right. Lexa turned her head to see a young couple holding hands about her age looking at her expectantly. “We couldn’t help but overhear your conversation.”

“Oh, sorry,” Lexa replied. “I hope I wasn’t too loud.”

The woman waved her hand in dismissal. “No worries about that,” she said. “We just couldn’t help but empathize. My husband here was on the other side of the country when our son was born.”

“We hope you make it,” the man said, sounding sincere.

“Thank you,” Lexa murmured, threading her fingers through her hair.

“Is it your first?” the woman asked in attempt to distract Lexa. She appreciated the gesture, but she wasn’t sure anything would help.

“Second,” Lexa replied. “But I wasn’t out of town for the first, and she was born after her due date. My wife is a month early with this one.”

The woman gave her a sympathetic smile. “Well, at least your wife is a pro at this, then,” she said. “Does she have anyone with her at least?”

Lexa nodded. “A friend was staying with her, just in case.”

“That’s good, then,” the women said. “Boy or girl?”

Lexa smiled. “Girl, another one.”

“You already have a daughter, then?”

Lexa nodded. “Yeah. Three and a half.” She wasn’t sure why, but she hit the side button on her phone and showed the background photo of the three of them--Clarke, Cam, and herself--sitting on the back deck stairs of the beach house in Coronado taken over the Memorial Day weekend. In it, you could tell Clarke was pregnant. She was glowing. And Cam was her normal adorable self with her golden curls and bright blue eyes. Lexa hadn’t known that Abby was even taking the photo and her smile was wide and natural as she looked so lovinging at her family.

She smiled now at the memory and the knowledge that they were about to add one more to their family.

“Absolutely precious,” the woman said. She showed Lexa her own phone which had a photo of a young boy of about two as the background image.

Before Lexa could say anything, an announcement was made that they were about to start boarding. “Finally,” Lexa said. She checked her ticket to see which group she was boarding with. Of course, it was one of the last ones. Her phone began buzzing again in her hand, Clarke’s photo popping up on the screen. “Sorry,” she said to the couple as she stood to answer it away from the crowd beginning to form by the door leading to the flight deck. “Hey,” she said into the phone. “Epidural done?”

“Yeah,” Clarke said. “It’ll take a bit longer for it to fully work, but I already feel better.”

“Good,” Lexa said. “They’re finally about to start boarding, so I may make in on time after all.”

“Good,” Clarke said. “What are your flight details? I’ll have Raven track it so I know where you are.”

Lexa gave her the flight number and Clarke had Raven write it down.

“Clarke, be honest with me,” Lexa said. “Do you think I’ll make it?”

Clarke sighed. She couldn’t lie. “I don’t know,” she said. “Lena just checked and I’m seven centimeters.”

“Seven?!” Lexa shrieked, earning her weird looks from other passengers, but she didn’t care.

“Yeah,” Clarke said. “I asked her how long she thought it would be and she said it could be anywhere from an hour to twelve hours. There’s really no way of knowing.”

“You weren’t seven with Cam until after almost a full day at the hospital,” Lexa said.

“Second births are often a lot quicker, Lex,” Clarke said softly.

“Don’t tell me that,” Lexa groaned. An announcement was made and she turned to see people beginning to board the plane. “They’re starting to board now,” she said. “I’ll text you until I have to turn off my phone.” Fuck. “Oh my god, I’m going to have to have my phone off for two hours!”

Clarke chuckled. “I was wondering when you’d realize that. Go catch your flight and I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay,” Lexa said. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.”

Lexa’s flight finally took off an hour later after sitting on the runway for another delay. She cursed the weather for the hundredth time.

It was utter agony having to have her phone turned off for the duration of the flight. But she did get a congratulations and a free drink from the flight attendant. Lexa suspected the couple from the terminal was responsible. She watched the progression of the flight towards San Francisco on the screen on the back of the seat in front of her, too anxious to do anything else.

Finally--finally--they landed in San Francisco. Lexa immediately turned her phone on. There were an onslaught of messages from Raven and she quickly opened the thread. She looked at the last message, which had only been sent two minutes ago.

Your plane about to land according to the flight tracker. No baby yet! But hurry. She's at nine centimeters!! Also, you're welcome ;)

She wondered what Raven meant by that last part, but ignored it for now. She text her that they'd landed and she was going to hurry.

The plane taxied to the gate and Lexa tapped her fingers anxiously. She could still make it! But she was in the back of the plane. She just hoped people didn't lollygag their way off.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” a voice came over the loudspeaker as they taxied into the terminal. “Thank you for flying Delta Airlines and welcome to San Francisco. The current time is two forty-nine in the afternoon and the weather is a balmy seventy-eight degrees. Please remain in your seats until a special passenger can deplane first. Let's all congratulate Detective Lexa Woods of the SFPD as she hurries to make it to the hospital in time for her wife to give birth to their second child.”

Lexa's eyes widened as people began to clap. Oh. That's what Raven had meant.

“Detective Woods?” the voice said again. “You may now make your way to the front of the plane.”

Lexa didn't have to be told twice and she grabbed her carry on bag and hurried towards the front as people continued to clap. She made eye contact with the couple from before and the woman mouthed “good luck” as the man gave her a thumbs up.

The first one off the plane, Lexa ran. She ran through the flight deck. She ran down the concourse. She ran until she got to the airport exit and realized--fuck!--she hadn't driven here!

Before she could figure out what to do, a voice called out. “Lexa! Over here!”

Abby. She must have driven up to San Francisco from Nevada, and Clarke or Raven must have sent her to pick Lexa up.

“Oh thank god,” Lexa said as she jumped into Abby's SUV. “I forgot I didn't drive here.”

Abby pulled away from the curb and into traffic. “I just got an update. She's still nine centimeters, so no pushing yet. Baby is in a perfect position, not breach and no cord wrapped around her neck like Cam.”

“Good,” Lexa said, remembering the several tense moments just after Cam can been born, face purple because the umbilical cord had gotten wrapped around her neck.

Lexa wasn't sure if Clarke was in a position to talk on the phone, so she FaceTimed Raven.

“You're welcome, Detective,” Raven said as the call connected.

“You already said that,” Lexa said. “Where's Clarke?”

The image on the screen shook as Raven’s phone was handed to Clarke. She looked exhausted, but happy. “I'm trying to hold on,” Clarke said. “But you need to hurry. Lena says it won't be much longer.”

Lexa nodded. “We're coming, baby,” she said. “As fast as we can. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Lexa didn't even wait for Abby to come to a complete stop when she pulled up to the curb outside the hospital. She ran again. She ran through the the lobby and up the stairs, taking them two at a time. She ran down the hallway towards the room.

Raven was waiting at the door, bouncing on her feet. “She's here!” she called into the room.

Lexa barely acknowledged her as she rushed past her and into the room, breathing heavily.

Clarke immediately felt a weight lift off her shoulders at the sight of her wife. “You made it!” she cried out, hands reaching for her. Lexa stumbled forward and enveloped her wife in a hug, kissing her soundly.

“I made it,” Lexa sighed in utter relief.

Twenty minutes later, Clarke was pushing. She screamed at the intense pressure she felt in her lower half. She couldn't feel pain thanks to the epidural, but the pressure was overwhelming almost to the point of passing out. But she pushed through it, pun intended.

It took nearly an hour and a half of pushing and breathing before a loud, piercing wail filled the room and Clarke fell back on the bed, completely spent, crying tears of relieved joy. Lexa was by her side the entire time, reminding her to breathe and encouraging her to be strong. Raven was running back and forth from the delivery room to the waiting room to give updates to Abby and various others who knew and worked with Clarke.

“Is she okay?” Clarke asked, trying to lift herself up on the bed, but the positioning of her legs made it difficult. “Lena?” Clarke and Lexa looked at her expectantly as she worked between Clarke's thighs.

The OB/GYN smiled up at them. And nodded. “She's perfect,” she said. “Lexa, you want to cut the cord?”

Lexa did and the nurses were able to take her to quickly clean her up and clear her windpipe as Clarke had to deliver the afterbirth. She just wanted to hold her baby, but she knew this was a rude necessity. So she pushed.

Soon, but not soon enough for Clarke's liking, she was holding their newborn baby girl, still crying. Lexa was matching her tear for tear as she curved her palm around the back of the baby's tiny head.

“We have two kids,” Lexa said as she buried her face in her wife's neck.

Clarke choked out a laugh. “We do,” she said, staring down at the sleeping infant in her arms and felt her heart ache at the thought. The only thing missing from the picture was Camilla. She couldn't want to introduce her to her baby's sister.

Later, as family and friends were allowed back, Abby and Raven grinned down as Clarke held the baby, Lexa at her side. The brunette had managed to perch herself on her side next to Clarke on the hospital bed, needing the closeness.

“Have you decided on a name yet?” Abby asked, smiling down at her new grandbaby.

Clarke glanced at Lexa, who nodded. “We decided on Emery,” Clarke said. “Emery Rae.” She smiled up at Raven.

“Rae?” Raven repeated. “Like…?”

Clarke nodded. “You were amazing,” Clarke said. “I was so lucky you were there with me. And you went out of your way to make sure Lexa could get here on time. We owe you so much.”

Raven got choked up, even if she did try to hide it by making a bad joke. But she thanked them and gave the three of them a hug, careful of the baby.

“I think it's a perfect name for a perfect little girl,” Abby said with a giant smile. “I'm so happy for you two.”

That night, once everyone had left for the night and Clarke and Lexa were finally alone, Clarke started crying again as she nursed.

“Baby, what's wrong?” Lexa asked, concerned. She stood from her spot on the chair pulled up next to the bed.

Clarke shook her head. “Nothing,” she said, laugh crying. “Hormones. I'm just really happy. And I really, really love you. And our kids.”

Lexa leaned down and kissed her soundly. “I love you, too.” She pulled back and nuzzled the top of Emery’s head, the dark hairs tickling her nose. “And I love you, too, miss Emmy. So much. Our little miracle baby.”

Emery Rae Griffin-Woods was born at 6:25PM on August 20, 2032, weighing in at a whopping five pounds, nine ounces.

And she was absolutely perfect. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact of the day: I taught myself Photoshop a while back and felt like putting something together for this series. It's not perfect, probably not even good, but it gives you an idea of my vision for this little Clexa family (and a hint for future family additions). Here it is (click [here](https://ibb.co/fo5aBa) for larger image):
> 
>  
> 
> [](https://ibb.co/fo5aBa)  
>   
> EDIT: if you're here to ask about chapter 6, yes I deleted it. I didn't realize how much it would... concern(?) a lot of people. I'm not sure why because I've experienced it with no issues. But I am going to repost it. Before anyone jumps on me and says I should rewrite anything just to please my readers, please don't. I'm doing it to please myself. I had two versions drafted in the first place. I'm just going to revise the version that I didn't post to start with. But it will take a while before I'm in a writing mood again (chapter 6's fail took a lot out of me) and have the time to do so. If you're interested in continuing any dialogue about the original chapter 6, you can email me at lexarexa85@gmail.com (I don't check this often, but I will use it to engage in polite discourse.) Thank you.


	6. Author's Note

I normally hate when writers post something new and it's just an author's note. But I now see why it may be necessary, as is the case here. Apologies that this is not a new installment. However, I needed to clear the air and get this off my chest, and posting is as a ‘new chapter’ was the only way to ensure that most people read it.

I had previously had a chapter 6 posted that detailed the conception, gestation, and birth of Clarke and Lexa's twins, Dylan and Mia. It was a beautiful journey that many couples go through, particularly lesbian couples. See, I had originally planned for Clarke and Lexa to conceive future children in the same manner as they'd conceived Camilla--through IVF using Lexa's sperm. But a lovely reader pointed out that, since Lexa is XX, she'd only be able to conceive female children and I had already planned for Dylan to be a part of their family. So I had to find a way around that little hiccup in my plan.

Why didn't they just adopt? Ah, see, that had been plan number one. But upon further reflection, I decided to pull even more from my own life as I have for many, MANY aspects of this entire series. See, my daughter, who I'll refer to as Anna (not her real name), is the product of using my wife’s brother’s sperm. As I previously mentioned, I was not around yet when our daughter was conceived. My wife’s first wife, let's call her Sarah, carried Anna using her own egg and they used my wife, Claire’s, brother as a donor. There were several reasons for this. One, the task of narrowing down an anonymous donor was overwhelming and tedious. Two, the idea of using a complete stranger, a faceless dude on a piece of paper, as a donor made them incredibly uncomfortable. That's not to say that using an anonymous donor is a bad choice. On the contrary, it's the best route for many people. But not Claire and Sarah. Tragically, Sarah died shortly after giving birth to Anna due to a stroke. 

Anna only exists because Claire’s brother was happy to be a donor.

Things are not weird. There has been zero negative outcomes. Clarie’s brother is Anna’s uncle, admittedly the coolest uncle there is, but that's it. He doesn't see her as anything other than his niece. Because that's all she is to him.

It's no different than if they'd used an anonymous donor. Except that now my wife is biologically related to Anna. That's not important for everyone but it was for her because she can't have kids of her own. She was in a pretty serious car accident when she was fourteen that left her uterus too damaged to carry to term.

Another reason for Clarke and Lexa not adopting was because I already had plans for a future adoption in the works. It was going to be a whole sad turned happy story of a kid that Detective Lexa saves from abusive parents (he's trans) and who becomes a patient of Clarke’s. They were going to take this kid in and eventually adopt him and raise him as the boy he knew he was.

Look, I'm a huge believer in constructive criticism. I don't always like it, but I appreciate it all the same. But the downright rude and offensive comments I got on chapter 6 made me realize that many people on here only care about reading what they want to read and if it's not what they want, instead of just not reading it, they pitch a fit and shit on that writer.

For those of you who left actual nice or engaging comments, thank you. I'm sorry that they had to get deleted when chapter 6 got deleted, but I did appreciate them.

For those of you who essentially called my daughter unnatural and “repulsive” (actual quote), fuck you.

I'm ending FBED here. I may or may not add to this in the future, but for now I'm marking it as complete and I likely will not post anything more FBED or anything else. At least not for a long while. For those of you who have shown me support and words of encouragement, both on here and via email, I love you so, so much! Y'all are the reason that I didn’t go completely apeshit and managed to keep this somewhat polite.

And I know. I shouldn't allow the negative to outweigh the positive, especially when it comes to self expression in my own art. As one reader said, getting those negative comments is a part of being an artist. It comes with the territory. I shouldn't allow them to get to me, but I do. I'm not the type of person who can easily overlook them, particularly when they are so hurtful and personally attack my family, intentionally or not. I'm going to spend the next several months focusing on teaching in my new school as my family and I settle into a new city. Besides, this new school year is already kicking my butt.

This note is not a way to look for sympathy or to start any wars. I'm simply explaining why I am taking a step back from writing for the time being. I hope you all (yes, even those of you with the nasty, rude comments) have a wonderful rest of your summer and fall. Maybe I'll see you in the winter. If anyone wants to contact me for any (not rude!) reason, feel free to email me at lexarexa85@gmail.com. I will try and check this at least once a week.

 

Much Love,

LexaRexa 


End file.
